


The Grand Design of Art and Coffee

by kahlannightwing



Series: The Grand Design [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Art History, Azira has a different idea of making out versus sex, Azira is a Thirsty Bitch, Christmas Fluff, Dating, Fluff and Smut, Gabriel is a good asshole friend, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Sex, Spanking, Tropes, soft romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21725944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kahlannightwing/pseuds/kahlannightwing
Summary: When sharply-dressed Anthony Crowley entered Azira Fell's coffee shop, the last thing the ex-bookseller expected was for him to be attracted to the painter. This was just a stop, per Gabriel's insistence, on Crowley's way to get rid of his art block. It was certainly not permission for Azira to develop feelings! Could it be that Crowley can fall as hard as he has?A soft and romantic romp without a care for tropes, this story is part of the Good Omens Holiday Swap 2019 forAnnatheHank/ tumblr:ineffable-human.Update: I commissioned the wonderful Kelsey to recreate a scene from this fic. He created this marvelous piece, even including the Bentley, which I knew was quite an ask!Do you want your own work from this talented artist that has done a captivating Lucian and Peter comic? You can find his commissions here: https://twitter.com/magicbubblepipe/status/1230956276076732422
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Gabriel (Good Omens), Crowley/Satan | Lucifer (Ex-Boyfriends)
Series: The Grand Design [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044357
Comments: 94
Kudos: 275
Collections: Good Omens Holiday Swap 2019, Ixnael’s Recommendations





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnaTheHank](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTheHank/gifts).



Azira was standing at the counter when the bell above the door rang. It was peak traffic hours, such as they were, and he was handing a mocha latte to the smiling woman in front of him. She shuffled to the side to select a comfy chair and revealed the man that had been standing behind her as he shuffled forward toward the counter. 

He was dressed stylishly in a black tailored suit, dark-tinted sunglasses perched on his thin nose. The shirt under his suit was also black with a striped maroon tie to add a splash of color. He had bright red hair that fell to shoulder length in soft waves and a clean-shaven face. He was slender, tall, and gave off a refined air as he tipped his chin upwards and smiled at Azira politely. There was a sway to his hips that was completely loose as a direct contrast to his professional clothing.

Perhaps it was that juxtaposition that threw Azira off, causing his lips to part as he stared openly. He did not look the type to be caught inside a small coffee shop with its dim lighting only broken by the natural light from the front bay windows. The smell of coffee permeated the shop, of course, along with the soft hint of baked goods, but there was also an underlying scent of worn and well-loved books that lined the walls in floor to ceiling shelves. 

Azira shook himself mentally, but luckily the new arrival appeared to be looking at the menu on the board behind Azira, lips pursed as he considered the choice of drinks listed. The puzzled expression on his face further cemented that he was new to this kind of coffee shop. He likely frequented the big chains instead, and even then maybe only their drive-throughs.

"How can I help you today," was just what he automatically said to any customer, but when the chin angled down, red hair tipping down to frame his face, Azira's breath caught.

It was really quite ridiculous, but it certainly wasn't the first time he'd been caught off guard by someone's looks. It would hardly be the last, he imagined.

"Ah," the pause was familiar to Azira, who had people come in for books and not coffee often enough. "What do you, uh, recommend?"

Smiling, Azira turned to look over the board as if he didn't already know what was on it. "Hmm, you seem like a man with particularly discerning tastes. I'd pin you for a small, black coffee type of person, but I'm betting you don't want it too loud." Turning back to the red-head, he raised a brow. "How about a latte? It's just espresso with milk."

"Can you make it soy?" His nose scrunched and one of his hands came out of the pockets of his pants that were, good lord, much too tight! He held a snakeskin wallet that he opened to reveal a slew of credit cards.

He definitely wasn't the usual sort of customer Azira had. He wondered if he was a lawyer that had made a wrong turn. "Let's make sure you like it first." Waving a hand, he turned to the espresso machine, focusing on getting the drink ready as he continued to speak.

He could feel the gaze behind those dark glasses as he followed him. "Would you like a bit of pastry to go with it? I make quite a good angel cake if I do say so myself, which I should since I baked it. That will work to balance out the flavors."

"Balance out the flavors?"

The gentle question was encouraging. "Oh, well yes," he responded as the milk steamed. "When you have something sweet you need something with a little bite to it, or you'll just overload yourself. It's always best to balance everything out, and then you end up enjoying it more." He poured the milk into the cup and handed it over.

The man was smiling at him as he took the cup from his outstretched hand. "You must be Azira Fell? This is your, uh, coffee shop?" Leaning forward, his sunglasses were tilted directly at Azira. He placed an elbow on the glass as his eyebrows raised.

"Ah, yes, my name is on the front, I'm afraid," he joked, wiping his hands on his pants. The intense scrutiny was making his insides flutter with nerves. "And you are?"

"Anthony, uh, Anthony Crowley. Usually coffee shops ask for my name upfront." His finger tapped at the side where the cardboard sleeve kept it cool.

"Well," Azira defended, "we're hardly one of those big chains that serve mediocre coffee, Mr. Crowley. Here we serve beans that come from one location. We don't deal with those blends of inferior beans."

"Just Crowley is fine. Friends call me Crowley." His lips curved into more amusement, if that was possible. "Someone told me about this place. Said it might be good to come relax here. How do the books work?" His hand waved toward the bookshelves that were not the usual fare for a coffee shop.

"Ah, you have to sign a waiver and you can read them while you enjoy your drink and pastry."

"I'm- I, uh, I have a sign a waiver?" He actually laughed at that, his eyebrows rising further above the rim of his glasses. "Why do I have to sign a waiver?"

Azira ducked under a glass case, grabbing a plate that had a sliced angel cake of raspberry, lemon, and vanilla. He slid the plate over toward Crowley who stared at it as he explained, "The angel cake for you to try as well."

Crowley slid the plate closer to himself, staring at the pink, yellow, and white layers. "Uh…."

Azira continued on seriously as if he hadn't interrupted himself. "These are rare books, Crowley. Some of these are quite costly, and a waiver makes people take it seriously." He smiled, easing some of his severity. "All it says is that you'll be very conscious of how much the books mean to me. Those kinds of waivers really don't carry any legal weight, you know."

"Yeah, I do know." He chuckled, glancing to the books again. "Rare books, huh? Do you have any art books?" His hand finally moved to take the cake. "You know, I do want to pay for this-"

"And you'll only do that if you like it." Azira was already moving around the counter, heading straight for a bookshelf as Crowley sauntered behind him. For a moment, they were side-by-side until Azira pulled out ahead of him to get those hips out of his view.

Was he walking like a model on purpose? Azira truly had no idea what sort of job he might have at this point.

"Here are the art books. Are you looking for a particular topic, Crowley?" He turned to find Crowley right behind him, glasses tipped up to the book bindings. He was still holding the plate and coffee cup in his hands. He had no room, obviously, for a book.

"Oh, I hardly ever read about art anymore. What about van Gogh?" He turned his attention back to Azira, and this close his smile was brilliant. Azira spun back to the bookshelf as his face went hot.

"We have plenty on him, but I think you'd most like 'Vincent'." He slid the thick book gently from its place and turned to show the cover, which was Vincent van Gogh's own self-portrait. "It's not light reading, I'm afraid. He had a rather eventful life."

"You've read it?" Crowley shifted from foot to foot, and Azira thought to move to the side and lead him to a seat. Crowley again followed him.

"I've read every book here. This is my personal collection. Most who wander in here do so because they know I likely have that book they've always wanted to hold in their hands." He sat the book down on the table and watched as Crowley did something that might have resembled sitting if the chair were made for stretching out in.

"And you don't sell them?"

This elicited a gasp that made Crowley jump as he sipped from the coffee. "I would never!"

"Ah, yeah, of course. Who sells books?" Crowley was grinning as he took another sip of the coffee. "This is actually good. I mean, I can taste it. It has a taste. Not just coffee."

"That's the way coffee should taste." He probably shouldn't grab the seat across from Crowley to sit down, but here he was doing exactly that. He loved the way Crowley pursed his lips after taking a drink. "Anything else is a pale imitation. The same is true of tea as well. Drinking bagged tea is just drinking dark-colored water, and who drinks dark-colored water?"

Crowley choked, luckily not on the coffee, and barked out a laugh. "You have tea? I like tea better."

"I wish I'd known," Azira chided. "Yes, the tea isn't on the menu. Tea is rather much simpler than coffee, you know. Do you want some-"

"Your customer service is great, but you don't have-"

"This isn't just customer service," he interrupted, raising his hand to wag a finger at Crowley. He just looked amused. "Every person who comes into Azira Fell's Coffee and Books is a guest, a potential friend who pops in for a drink whenever it takes their fancy."

"That's an interesting concept for a mission statement," he replied.

Azira nodded as Crowley slid the fork into the angel cake and then into his mouth. He waited for Crowley's verdict quietly. Silence always weighed down on him, and he wished he could fill it with something that wouldn't be a nonsensical ramble, but he was caught rubbing the buttons of his waistcoat as he watched Crowley.

Crowley's brows rose as he looked straight ahead. Azira couldn't tell if he liked it or not. He couldn't even tell if Crowley was staring at him or if the glasses were just pointed his way.

Finally, Crowley grinned. "Mmm, that is good! Well, I'm glad you sell tea and coffee and cakes, Mr. Fell." Crowley's glasses tipped down at the place as his face flattened into politeness. Azira wasn't sure what had changed but he missed the easy camaraderie they had shared.

"Oh, please, Azira is fine." He smiled, smoothing his hands down his waistcoat. "I'll leave you to enjoy your food and drink. Oh, and the book, of course." He rose from the seat, pushing it into the table.

Crowley's smile was small but genuine. "Don't forget the waiver."

Azira chuckled, nodding. "I'll have you sign it before you leave, so come to the counter for that, please."

Shaking his head, Crowley's smile brightened, and Azira walked back behind the counter to tidy up. He was happy this, at least, seemed to amuse Crowley. If he kept stealing glances at Crowley while he worked and wondering if the hair curling around his neck was really as soft as it looked, it was completely his business and ultimately harmless.

There were a couple more customers who came in that Azira greeted and served their usuals, some of which had only stopped in to say a quick hello and others that perched in various places with a book. For the most part it was a peaceful weekday afternoon.

It was an hour later before he heard a clearing throat in the midst of making sure there were enough clean forks. Wiping his hands on a towel, he smiled as Crowley shifted from foot to foot in front of the register.

"I completely lost track of time. That was a good book." He had his wallet in hand, a credit card held out to Azira. "And good cake. The cake was especially good." He ducked his head, and Azira felt his heart clench.

"Well, thank you very much! You can come back to finish the book. It's rather a hefty read." He took the card and swiped it, and if he gave a bit of a discount it was, again, no one else's business. He handed the card back and smiled. "You will come back, won't you?"

There was a pause as the glasses slid down from Crowley's nose slightly. He pushed them back up, but not before Azira caught sight of warm brown eyes that looked rather bloodshot. "Ah, I mean, uh, sure. I mean, my, uh, agent said I need a break. Er, not a break, but something new. To shake things up. Well, not things. Ideas! I need ideas, and he thinks that- Well, yeah. Yeah, I'll come back."

It took Crowley a while to get all that out, and Azira waited patiently and then mentally sorted through the information Crowley had revealed as his heart clenched at the stuttering. "Are you an actor," he inquired. He thought he sounded perfectly neutral and not as curious as he actually was.

As he asked, he placed the promised waiver in front of Crowley. He felt rather ridiculous about it now because it was a silly little thing, but he had promised and Crowley had seemed delighted by it. 

Crowley glanced down at the paper on the clipboard and picked up the pen attached to it, he smirked at the words on the page and then straightened, his forehead crinkling in surprise and confusion. "An actor?"

"You said an agent. I thought-"

"Oh! Oh, no! I'm an artist. I mean, I paint. Gabriel just manages, uh, my art? He makes sure my paintings get the 'hottest' spot in the 'newest' gallery." There was a certain intonation to some of the words he used that sounded like quotation marks were around them.

"Oh! Well, no wonder you wanted to see the books about art!" He beamed at Crowley. "I do hope you can take a break here. Everyone deserves one, and I try to make this a sort of escape from all that stress out there." He waved a hand toward the front door to indicate the entire world outside the coffee shop.

Crowley's shoulders slumped as he smiled thinly at Azira. "Yes. It has been a nice break. Thank you. I'll come back. I promise." He bent down over the paper, signing it with a strange flourish. "This waiver really is cu- I mean, you obviously care about your books a lot. It shows."

Azira didn't know if it was a purposeful deflection. He didn't like it when people promised things that could lead to him being disappointed, especially when he really would be disappointed. He liked Crowley. His clothes were black and cut sharp and expensive, he was wearing sunglasses indoors, and his voice was loud enough that everyone could hear their conversation.

Azira didn't care about any of that. He found it endearing, which was worrying on its own without Crowley promising to come back. He'd be watching for him to come through the door every day now. "I'll look forward to that," was his polite response as he tried to squash the impulse to insist Crowley come back again.

He received a hesitant smile from Crowley before he turned to leave.

Azira looked down at the handwriting on the paper, seeing a weird shape instead of an actual signature. It looked more like the initial of one letter done fancy. It felt like it fit so well that his heart ached for Crowley, who liked tea instead of coffee.

His head snapped up toward retreating figure. "Oh! Wait!" Azira's cry made every head turn, and he blushed, hurrying to get what he had set aside for Crowley earlier. "Oh, just three minutes please!"

Crowley shuffled back to the counter, hands in his pockets and shoulders still hunched. Azira, meanwhile, flew to the hot water dispenser to fill a teapot and retrieved a to-go cup. He leaned against the counter and smiled at Crowley apologetically as he waited for the tea to brew.

Crowley, for his part, just gave him a stare with both eyebrows raised. The minutes ticked away and seemed to last forever, echoing in his head as he struggled for something to say and came up with nothing. Crowley seemed just as stuck, thankfully, and the little timer soon chimed and spared them both.

He poured the tea into the to-go cup and slid it over the counter to Crowley, who picked it up and stared into the contents. He looked up at Azira then with a soft, pleased smile. "Is this-"

"Tea, yes. You said you preferred it; it is rather cold outside."

"I should pay you for-"

"You can pay next time you come in!" Azira hardly dared draw breath as Crowley's lips parted.

The amused smile returned to his face "You drive a hard bargain, Azira. I think Gabriel would like you. When I come back then." He turned and strode out of the door, his hips canting side to side in a manner that looked like it should topple him over.

Azira didn't know if that was a subtle insult or a compliment, but he wriggled his shoulders nonetheless, smiling at the victory before returning to the forks. He already felt better knowing Crowley was sure to come back now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley returns as promised. It's a moment for Crowley and Azira to get to know each other a little bit. When Azira becomes emboldened, will Crowley be receptive?

It was a week later and Azira had gotten more than one strange look from a customer as he tried to look around them to spy a black tailored suit and red hair. He had finally stopped glancing over at every ring of the bell above the door, settling back into a normal routine. So when he turned around after throwing away some trash with an hour left to close and the shop empty, his eyes flew wide in surprise to see black sunglasses and a hand running through wind-blown red hair.

Crowley stood at the counter, offering him a stunning smile. He still wore all black, but now it was a casual shirt under a jacket with tight jeans.

"Ah, Crowley!" It was exuberant enough that Crowley's eyebrows rose.

He grinned though, speaking breathlessly. "I thought you might've closed already. I'm, um, sorry it took so long to get back. Gabriel wanted me to go to the opening of this new gallery." He rolled his head to the side and Azira imagined his eyes following the motion.

It didn't explain the week-long absence, but he couldn't expect Crowley to not have a life. He also wasn't going to admit he'd quite forgotten who Gabriel was. "It's fine. I knew you'd come back." He pressed his palms into the glass counter. "You said you would," he added softly.

The hands that had been at his side shoved themselves into his pants pockets. "Yeah. Said I would," he agreed. His glasses were turned toward the counter. "That tea was good. Can I have that again?"

"Oh!" He was supposed to be asking what Crowley wanted, not staring at his face as if he could commit it to memory. "Of course you can! Do you want a bit of cake too? It's a fruitcake. You know the season is almost upon us."

"The season?"

Azira barely heard the tone as he turned to prepare the tea for steeping. "The holiday season. Though if another person asks me for pumpkin spice anything, I might toss a cup at them. A paper cup," he hastened to add.

When he moved back to the counter to get the slice of fruitcake, Crowley was frowning down at the counter. "Yeah." His shoulders were hunched again, and he took in a fortifying breath. "That book still here? The one about- Well, course it's still here, but is it free?"

Azira nodded, pursing his lips at the darkened expression on Crowley's face. He could presume that the holidays might not be a good time for Crowley, or maybe he just didn't enjoy them. "Yes, it is. I can grab it for you while you find a seat. The couch is very comfortable."

Nodding, Crowley took the plate and brought it up to his nose, sniffing it. He smiled at Azira and turned to sashay to the couch, setting the plate down before he laid himself on it like a fainting Victorian lady. Azira tore his eyes away from the slender body draped across the couch's cushions so he didn't over-steep the tea. Cup in hand, he moved to get the book as well.

He brought both over to where Crowley lay and smiled, setting them down on the table beside the untouched plate. Staring at Crowley's feet on the cushion, he inclined his head at the space there. "Do you mind if I sit? No one comes in this late, and I would love to be in your company."

It was embarrassing how quickly he could feel the heat rise to his cheeks. Crowley stared at him through his glasses, expression unreadable around them, and then drew his feet back, waving a hand. "Sure. Your place," he grunted.

The dismissive way he spoke was disconcerting, but Azira told himself it wasn't personal as he sat down beside him. He had no reason to take it personally. They were practically strangers to each other. He smiled, keeping his tone light. "Quite. I paid it off just five years ago, so it is mine by all rights," he teased.

Crowley's hand rose to rub over his face and then flopped back down to thud on the back of the couch. "I'm not trying to be an ass-"

Laughing at the honesty, Azira rested his hands on his knees. "No, you're fine. It's dreadfully cold and wet weather outside, and it sounded like maybe you didn't enjoy the new gallery," he prodded.

The snort was sharp, hands raising to gesticulate. "It's just like all the others. Bunch of snobs who tell you to your face that you're the most genius painter to exist and whisper behind your back that you're washed up and done with it all." His face had gone dark again.

Azira frowned. "Well,that is quite rude. I'm sorry they've said that. I'm sorry you heard it!"

He was genuine about his sympathy, and the flicker of indignation on behalf of Crowley reminded him just how quickly he could form an emotional attachment. It was an unattractive quality, he'd been told.

Crowley shot him an appreciate grimacing smile that eased his own concern. "Walls are thin between the displays, but I made sure to tell them that," he spat. He sat up suddenly, grabbing for the mug and taking a sip. His shoulders sloped downwards as the drink's warmth took effect. "That really is a good tea you gave me last time. Warmed me up all the way home."

Azira smiled. "I'm glad. And I tell you now if one of those snobs ever comes into my shop, just point them out. I'll pour the tea right down the front of their shirt," he declared primly.

It was a near thing that Crowley didn't spit out the drink he'd just taken. A hand pressed to his mouth, eyebrows to his hairline as he spluttered. He didn't look able to swallow the liquid.

"Oh, dear!" Rushing up, Azira grabbed napkins from the counter and hurried back. "So sorry, Crowley! I didn't think before I spoke. How unconscionable-"

Crowley waved a hand to cut him off before grasping at the napkins and wiping off his mouth. He laughed aloud after swallowing. "No, no it's fine! That was fucking hilarious! Scalding hot tea down their front? You're horrible!"

Grinning, he sat back down next to Crowley, wriggling his shoulders toward him. "Well, they deserve it! Art is subjective. Everyone treats it like it's objective though."

"Ah, that's capitalism, Azira." He settled back down into the couch's cushions, letting them swallow his lanky frame. "Anything to drive up the cost of things. I used to be excited about it. Imagine splashing paint onto a canvas, putting your heart into it, and being told it's worth thousands? Gets inside your head."

"I imagine it would, yes," he murmured. "I tended to go into the museums and browse the more classic art myself. I like some modern art, but it does confuse me."

Crowley nodded. "I liked the classics. Used to study them. Wanted to actually do them, but you can't make money that way. Doesn't sell. Honestly it rarely sold back then unless it was advertised by someone already established." He tapped the cover of the van Gogh book where it lay closed on his stomach. "He was only famous after he died. His art was considered rubbish when he was living."

"Yes, but he still kept creating. He couldn't not. As you said, he put his heart into it."

Crowley turned his head towards him, lips pursed as he stared. Azira's hands moved to the buttons of his waistcoat at his silence, wondering if he'd said something too sappy there.

Setting the mug aside, Crowley reached for the plate, taking a bite and nodding. "You're right. He had his brother looking out for him too, as much as he was able," he replied softly.

"Do you have family?"

Crowley jerked, straightening out of his lounge with the plate of cake still in his hands. "Uh, family?" He frowned and shook his head. "Not around here. Not, uh- Do you have family?"

Azira had asked the question out of nowhere, he realized. It had been quite rude, and probably unexpected on Crowley's part, so he was glad when Crowley returned the question. "Oh, not around here," he smiled encouragingly. "They didn't approve of my chosen vocation or some of my life choices. It was best to leave us both separated." He rubbed his hands down his pants legs as he glanced downward. "I'm sorry if that was too personal a question, Crowley."

Giving him a strained smiled, Crowley shrugged. "I mean, as long as you do this with all your customers…." Chuckling, he took another bite of the fruitcake. "Your family sounds as weird as mine was."

He laughed back, delighted to be able to make light of it with someone who probably needed to do that too. "They're the weirdest," he agreed. Leaning back against the cushions, he was unable to stifle a smile as Crowley's legs went from properly planted on the ground to sprawled out in front of him at odd angles. He couldn't see how it was comfortable to sit like that.

"So if we're moving onto more personal territory, what made you open up a coffee shop with all these books, Azira?" Crowley's smile was more easy now.

Shrugging, Azira looked around at the comfortable seating, the worn tables with scuff marks and water stains, and the books lined up neatly on their shelves. "I used to run a bookshop. In fact, this was the bookshop. I was open for a couple years before I realized I absolutely hated selling my books!"

Crowley chuckled, taking a sip of his tea as his lips split into a grin. "So you opened a coffee shop where people could come in and just read them instead?"

"I wanted to be a librarian when I was younger, but I rather didn't like the idea of depending on the - well, not to get too political - but the local community to step in and make sure I stayed open since the government doesn't feel inclined to." He tipped his nose into the air, and then let go of his ire with a self-indulgent smile. " I liked being an entrepreneur at that point anyways.

"So I did a remodel of the shop. Those who'd come in for books before could now get coffee and cakes and read the books I'd been reluctant to sell to them. I thought it was a nice compromise, and then I started to get new regulars as well." He gestured to the door to indicate how those regulars entered, even if it was redundant.

"That does sound like a better trade-off." Crowley raised his brow, thankfully not delving into the political can of worms Azira had potentially opened. "You're always going to know the people who come in often like the books. Or coffee. Or cakes." He laughed and lifted up his mug. "Or tea."

"Or tea," he agreed, smiling. "How did you start painting?" His eyes skittered across the laugh lines that creased at the corners of Crowley's lips, wishing he could see them echoed in his eyes as well.

"I was looking at a nudie magazine of my dad's. Sketched it out real accurate, or as accurate as a ten-year-old can." He smirked, a brow raised as he waited for the reaction.

Azira didn't disappoint. He laughed, throwing back his head as he grabbed at his stomach. "You didn't? You drew porn?"

"Hey, it wasn't porn! It was tasteful! Just a woman with her clothes off. I thought it looked lovely. Mom didn't think so." He chuckled along with Azira.

"I imagine she didn't! Oh, I hope your father didn't get into too much trouble."

"He slept on the couch for a week!"

They both threw back their heads as they laughed unreservedly. Azira thought he'd never seen something so lovely as Crowley's eyes alight with happiness, grin spread out on his face and bringing color to his cheeks. Reaching over impulsively, he rested a hand on Crowley's leg.

Crowley stared at Azira's hand at the same time Azira realized what he had done. Lifting his hand, Azira let it hover above Crowley’s leg before he realized that looked more suspicious than just acting like it had been a genial touch and nothing more.

It was...a genial touch. It was utterly harmless and meant nothing, even if the warmth of Crowley made Azira's palm tingle. He sat his hand down on his pants and smiled. "I'm sorry. I should have made sure that was okay."

"N-no! No, it was fine. I was just, uh, just surprised." He curled his lips into a smile even as his eyebrows remained high on his forehead. "I, um, I'm glad you gave me tea, Azira. The coffee from last time kept me up a bit."

Azira slapped his hands on his pants, happy for the distraction as he bounced a bit on his seat. "Oh! I hadn't meant to do that! Well next time you come in I'll be sure to give you some chamomile. In fact," he exclaimed, rising to his feet under the amused stare of Crowley, "you should take some home for yourself. Whenever you do feel unable to sleep, you can make some and put some honey in it."

He was bustling back to the couch in short order with a small tin in his hand as Crowley chuckled. "Azira, you're really kind, but I don't-"

"Nonsense! You don't boil the water for herbal tea though, and make sure to steep it for five minutes at least!"

Laughing, Crowley reached to take the tin. Their fingers brushed for a moment and Azira hoped that was the reason for the small smile he was given. "I will, Azira. Now sit back down- Oh! You need to close! I've been keeping you here!"

Azira shook his head, moving to the door and turning the sign over to closed. He turned the lock on the door. "I'm afraid you'll have to be locked in here with me, my dear. Will you keep me company while I close up? We can leave out the back."

Crowley's sunglasses were annoying, Azira decided. He just stared at him, a tiny frown on his face and his eyebrows puckered into the center of his forehead. Azira wanted to go over and smooth it with his fingers, which was much too personal of a thing to want to do.

So he stood at the door, hands folded behind him so he could rub his fingers together unseen, and waited.

"Uh, yeah," Crowley seemed to shake himself into motion, standing and running a hand through his hair before he rubbed it on his pants. He picked up the tea, drained it, and set it down on the table. "Yeah. Do you need any help? Closing up?"

"Oh, no. Thank you though. I simply count the till. Fresh pastries are best, so I always wake up extra early to bake. I've already cleaned all the dishes!" Striding to the register, he opened it and began to sort out the money for the safe.

"Ugh, you wake up early on purpose?" He'd made his way to the counter and leaned against the glass display, smirking. "I bet you're one of those morning people. Chirping at people when they walk through the door."

"I'll have you know, I am no bird, Crowley! I just happen to think that there's nothing wrong with greeting the day with a smile and a kind word. And a cup of coffee." He tipped his nose upward and tried not to smile.

Crowley did not hide his own amusement. "Oh, you would. I pinned you for one of those happy fools as soon as I walked in the door. Could hear your 'how do you do today' like sunshine."

"Well, it made you smile."

Crowley didn't push away from the counter, but he craned his head back, eyebrows up and color high on his cheeks. Azira felt his own face heat with a blush. "Uh, y-yeah. Yeah, you did." He smiled then, just like he had that first time, small and hesitant but with his entire face.

Azira's stomach did a flip that he hadn't given it permission to. "Well, let me just go put this in the safe!" Turning, he scurried off, feeling rather ashamed that he was running away.

Once he was in the back room with the door closed, he leaned against it, money still clutched in his hands.

"Azira Fell, what in the world are you doing," he chastised with a hiss. He frowned down at the money in his hands and imagined that red hair, the way it curled around Crowley's slumped shoulders, and how he threw himself so casually onto the couch so his hair tumbled about him. 

He had come in alone, both times. He'd said he was taking a break, and he supposed a sabbatical was best done without anyone else hanging around, but still- Oh, but he seemed rather lonely, didn't he? He thought an artist, especially one that looked like Crowley, should be at parties, drinking the fanciest wines and sharing laughter with someone who admired their latest work.

Maybe Azira was projecting. He, too, would have gone someplace on his own. He did, in fact, go places on his own: to the movies or a new restaurant. Crowly was just here to get rid of a block, and, apparently, he found the concept of a coffee shop where he could read rare books intriguing. A lot of people said that about his shop.

Moving to the safe behind his desk, he knelt down and unlocked it as he continued to consider the man waiting out front.

He'd been bold ever since he'd seen Crowley. He'd crowded into his personal space. He'd touched him. He'd done things he wouldn't do for a normal customer. Goodness, he'd locked the man in the shop with him!

He'd locked the man in the shop with him without even really giving him a choice in the matter! He'd done many bold things since he'd met Crowley, but surely this was considered creepy.

Stuffing the money into the safe, he locked it and hurried out of the room, arriving at the front breathlessly. Crowley looked up from where he'd been peering through the glass display at the pastries with idle curiosity.

His glasses were off.

"Oh!" The apology that Azira had prepared, the decision to unlock the front door and let the poor trapped man out, was forgotten. The eyes that met his were that same warm brown of their first meeting, though with less of the bloodshot look. "Um, I-"

"Everything okay?" Straightening, Crowley took his hands off the display and then grimaced when he glanced down. "Ugh, I left prints on your glass!"

"No, no, it's okay! I haven't cleaned it today." There was no need to tell Crowley that he'd been too caught up in talking with him to close up properly. He'd done enough that tomorrow wouldn't be difficult. "I wanted to apologize. I," he began, looking down at his hands as he wrung them together, "locked you here without even a by-your-leave. You must think I'm- Well, it is rather creepy."

"No! No, I…I didn't mind. Although, yeah it's a little creepy." He chuckled and raised his hands to wave them in the air. 

Azira looked up to see Crowley staring back, naked eyes bright and open. The kind gaze lit every part of him in warm sensation.

"I think it's charming though," Crowley finished with a smile.

He smiled back and stepped around the counter. "Oh, well, charming is a much better impression. Um, I leave out this way." He pointed to the door that led to the kitchen and the back door. "My flat is right upstairs. I mean, there's stairs at the side of the building to go up and to it."

Crowley walked around the counter, and Azira led them into the kitchen area. "Sounds like that could get dicey if it got iced."

"I have quite the steady step. No need to worry. I always salt the stairs for bad weather or even close if need be," he assured him. He stopped at the back door and unlocked it, stepping outside. It was cold enough to need a coat, but he wasn't going to be out in it long.

Turning around, he let Crowley move past him as he locked the door. Crowley had the tin and fruitcake in his hands, balancing them precariously atop each other.

"Oh!" Azira’s words echoed between the bricks of the buildings and made them both start. "I should have gotten you a bag! Let me get you a bag!"

"You don't-"

Azira was already taking his stairs two at the time. He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a choked noise from behind him. When he stopped at the top of the flight to look back, he didn't see anything for Crowley to be alarmed about. Crowley stared up at him with wide eyes. "I'll be right back!"

He vanished inside, grabbed a paper bag from under his sink, and dashed, carefully, back down the stairs. He was getting quite the workout!

"There we go! One paper sack!" He unfolded it and then held it out for the items.

As Crowley placed them into the bag, he stole glances at Azira. Azira pretended not to notice, but each one made the chill feel fainter.

"You're...kind," Crowley mumbled, tucking the bag close to his chest and smiling.

"Well, it just seems like the right thing to do." He smiled. "I mean, not right in the moral sense, but...um- Say, we've having a thing here next week." He stumbled over the words, not sure how to respond to that hushed tone.

Surely it wasn't a surprise for someone to be kind to Crowley. He seemed nice.

"A thing?" An eyebrow lifted, the smile still firmly in place.

Really, Azira didn't like that Crowley seemed endlessly amused by him, but he supposed it was better than some of the strange looks he got otherwise. "Yes, a thing," he stated, tipping his chin up. "It's a wine tasting, but not the silly ones where you spit out the wine." His smile softened his features. "Actually it's just a group of friends that come together to drink and talk. They were removed from a hangout they had before, and this is a safe place for them."

"What place were you kicked out of?" Crowley sounded as if he couldn't imagine someone kicking out Azira-

Oh.

"Not me! No, these aren't- I mean, these are acquaintances. They were meeting somewhere else and the proprietors found out what they were meeting for and barred them." His frown was thunderous. "Honestly, I don't encourage anyone to go there. The owner tossed slurs at them, can you imagine?"

Crowley paused for a moment, and then nodded. "Sounds like a right bastard. So this wine tasting...are you-?"

"Yes! I was inviting you! I mean, I sometimes sit with them and listen. I like to stay in the know, as they say. The wine is good, though. So good. I used to splurge on a good bottle once every few months, but they've taught me a great deal about spending on a budget!" He grinned at Crowley. "So if you'd like to come, we could share some wine together. And, of course, the company of others. If you wanted."

"I want." Crowley cleared his throat, ducking his head. "I mean, I want to come to the thing. The wine tasting. That you and the others will be at. Next week? What time?"

Azira didn't think Crowley had taken a single breath as he said all that, and it was so endearing. "After nine on Friday. Is that too late?"

"Oh no! Nothing planned. I mean, cause I'm on break! Nothing planned! I'll, um, see you there? Course I will. See ya then!" He turned and walked quickly away, leaving Azira to watch his strut through the alley and disappear around the corner.

Azira cupped his cheeks in both hands and breathed out. His mind replayed the last hour in a rush of heat that caused him lean against the railing of his stairs.

"Oh, good lord." He most certainly had a crush on Crowley. He thought Crowley most certainly had a crush on him!

Taking the stairs on shaky legs, he vowed to bring some sort of control over his impulses for the next time he spent time with Crowley. He definitely would not dwell on how like a date Friday night would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fluffy chapter with extra bits of flirting. I did some research and was shocked, as an American, at the state of UK's library system. Bits of information there were gotten from:  
> https://www.theguardian.com/voluntary-sector-network/2017/oct/19/uk-national-public-library-system-community
> 
> Honestly, it's no better than America's. Public libraries need our support, so I'm going to take this time to say support your library! You can:  
> * volunteer  
> * donate used books  
> * attend their events  
> * donate to them  
> * support the American Library Association  
> * support the Library Campaign (UK)  
> * support the Libraries Taskforce branch of the Arts Council (UK)  
> * go to the library and use their services  
> * vote!
> 
> Okay, PSA done. Next chapter on Sunday! Do Azira and Crowley make out?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley drops by for the promised wine party. After being locked in with Azira, will he be shy, or will the events that happened at the bottom of Azira's stairs blossom into something more?

Only half of the group had turned up at the coffee shop. It had been pouring rain all day, and, though Azira had peered out into the drenched and dark night several times since the last person had ducked inside, he wasn't expecting Crowley to come tonight.

He shoved together four tables to form one bigger space with five bottles of wine in the center. The group was seated around the table, the first glasses of wine poured all of them dried using towels Azira had provided. Azira was sitting on the couch, his own wine glass in hand and breathing for far longer than it needed.

He normally only joined them after the second glass, when he'd relaxed enough that he wouldn't feel such an outsider of their group. This, of course, wasn't true, a fact many of them insisted on, but they also knew he liked his space. He needed time to settle after closing the store before he engaged in social interaction.

They all jumped when a thumping on the door rattled it in its frame. Rising to his feet with a pounding heart, Azira rushed to the door, unlocking and swinging it open to reveal a drenched Crowley.

"Oh, you poor dear, come in! You didn't have to come in this weather!"

"Yeah, well, I did promise." Stepping into the coffee shop, Crowley was hunched over with hair dripping water down the back of his drenched jacket. The deeper red of it draped across the black material, clinging around his shoulders. His sunglasses were speckled from the rain, and the soft sound of water hitting the floor was the only thing audible as they stared.

"Everyone, this is Anthony. Um, Anthony, this is everyone." Azira stepped to the side after closing and locking the door against the storm. There was a chorused mumble of hellos and introductions from the group. "Um, oh, please, wait here! I'll get a towel."

Moving quickly through the room and around the counter, he disappeared into the back to return a moment later with a fluffy, white towel. Crowley held out a hand as he approached him and Azira swatted at it with a frown.

"Nonsense, dear, let me!" Before he could quite think about it, he was running the towel through Crowley's hair, drying it first before patting at his shoulders and neck. As he dragged the towel down the front of his jacket, hands wrapped around his wrists to stop him. Azira's eyes darted up to Crowley's sunglasses.

Crowley face was flushed, but he was smiling. "I've got it. Thank you," he whispered.

Blushing, Azira nodded, releasing the towel as Crowley let go of him. He turned, caught them in the stares of the people at the table, and clapped his hands. "Well, how is that first bottle? What do you think," he exclaimed.

Bustling to the table, he picked up a wine glass and filled it as the silence was broken with opinions on what kind of wood and fruit the wine actually had in it. He'd always thought it was rather funny, as he'd never really tasted the fruits or woods in wine. Though sometimes he did notice if a wine tasted like coffee or chocolate.

He turned, holding the wine glass up as he heard footsteps approach. "This is a shiraz. I'm told a five year old one. It's supposed to have hints of vanilla, but I can't taste any." He smiled.

Crowley smiled back at him, taking the wine glass with a delicate hand. "Vanilla, huh? Where's your wine glass?"

"Oh, I left it by the couch!" He took hurried steps to the couch, attempting to act casual as he bent over to pick up the glass from the floor to rejoin the group at the table. Crowley had already taken a seat beside a blonde named Melissa, who was in the middle of recounting what she'd done with such a bottle just last week with her girlfriend.

Azira thought she didn't need to get that explicit with the tale, but the others were cackling with laughter.

Crowley was smiling too, but he turned his attention back to Azira, and the smile changed to something softer. He still had the glasses on, but they'd been wiped clear of water. Azira was disappointed he'd missed getting to see Crowley's eyes.

Crowley lifted his glass to his lips, taking a drink, and an eyebrow rose to remind Azira he was staring. Azira took a drink of his own wine, found it pleasant enough, and smiled at Crowley. "How do you like it?"

Some of the conversation quieted to listen. The curiosity was thick in the air for the stranger and his opinion. Crowley kept his gaze on Azira as he turned the glass to tip the wine inside in a circle. "It's nice. Got a little ring of berries in it."

"Oh, that's the blackberries," said one, and the rest of the table took up the offered tidbit.

Azira was envious of Crowley's seeming ease in charming the table, though his continued intense gaze at Azira was pointed. The room surely felt warm tonight. Had he turned up the heat on accident?

Clearing his throat, Azira reached for a chocolate as he searched for anything to say that came off nearly as casual and cool as what Crowley had. "I rather like how it's not so dry you can't taste anything. Sometimes I buy an expensive bottle of red, and I'm just so disappointed. What a waste of money to buy something so highly-priced with no flavor!"

Crowley's smile tipped upwards on one end. "We get that all the time at the galleries. Horribly expensive wine that tastes like shit." The expletive produced some giggles from the table. Azira thought it just as charming as anything else Crowley had said tonight.

Oh, but he was happy he had come!

"Do they serve those little bits of food that are just different forms of crackers, meat, and cheese and just remind you you're starving," Azira inquired.

Tossing back his head, Crowley gave a delighted laugh. Azira could see some members of the table staring openly. Goodness, they must be as entranced as he was! "Yes! That's exactly what they do! If I'm dragged to one before dinner, I snap at people all night."

He ducked his head as someone spoke up from the far end of the table. "Oh, are you an artist?"

"Uh, yeah. I do a little," he explained as he raised a hand and wriggled his fingers in the air, "a little dabbling. Nothing big. Just lines on a canvas. Taking a vacation right now."

"You're taking a vacation at Mr. Fell's?" That was Brenda, bless her heart, though he shot her a look that was full-blown panic. She always tried to set him up with her 'cousin from out of town who was visiting'. She was probably guessing this entire thing. They all probably were.

This was a horrible idea in hindsight!

Smiling, Crowley turned to her as Azira wilted in mortification. "Best vacation I've had in years. And you are all lovely!"

Weeks earlier, Azira had not known Crowley could be this charming with people. Seeing them titter at him now was a direct juxtaposition to the quiet man who hadn't liked coffee and wanted to read a book and then talked the night away with him.

The rest of the evening was spent with light chatter even Azira could engage in: the terrible weather that had besieged London, a smattering of politics, and, of course, opinions on the wine and alcohol in general.

When they were all slurring their words and falling onto each other in bouts of laughter instead of conversation, they agreed it was time to go home. Azira called a ride for them, assuring them as always he would pay their fares if they wished, but they declined out of habit.

He saw them all bundled against the weather, water bottles in hand, and out the door. He'd almost forgotten one last person was left as he turned the lock before Crowley's voice spoke up behind him.

"Locking me in with you again, are you?"

Spinning around, he placed a hand against his chest as he leaned against the door. "Good lord! You startled me," he accused.

Tipping his chin down and chuckling, Crowley walked toward Azira until they were inches apart. He lifted a hand, placing it on the door beside Azira. "Sorry," he rumbled, "I didn't mean to."

As he swallowed, he swore it was audible. "Well, of course you didn't! Um, would you like to sit on the couch, Crowley? We could talk more. Unless the locked door really...bothers you."

The sunglasses didn't let him see if he'd done the wrong thing or not, but the body leaning towards him relaxed back, and the smile didn't falter. "It doesn't bother me. Yeah, let's sit and talk."

When Crowley moved away, Azira drew in a steadying breath. He'd thought that Crowley would kiss him. He wouldn't have minded it at all, but he wanted to lay some ground rules before kissing turned into making out and then into more. He thought that would be too fast right now.

Azira had no problem making acquaintances. He'd even call a select few of them friends, but anything beyond that he had trouble with. He always found that either they or he didn't quite fit right. Usually it was him not fitting in their world. It was probably also the fact that he wasn't looking for anything quick and cared if something could be long-term or not.

That alone had the potential to be a breaking point.

Following behind Crowley, he smiled as he took a seat beside where he lounged. "Thank you. I mean, I, um-thank you."

Crowley seemed to understand what he was stuttering. "It's fine. Wine got to my head. You're, um-well, I like you. Probably a bit obvious."

Chuckling, Azira ran his hands down his pants legs. "Oh, it wasn't horribly obvious! I mean, I figured you didn't absolutely detest me! And you certainly aren't just humoring me. I rather thought I was the one being ridiculously forward."

"Forward," Crowley muttered in wonder. "You're not forward. Feel like, um, you might be- You know, just being nice."

"Oh no!" Touching Crowley's knee, he didn't move his hand even with those sunglasses aimed at it. "I do! Like you too, I mean." He'd been blushing this entire night, he was sure. "I'm just a bit old-fashioned, I suppose. I think perhaps I'm too old to have a quickie against my own shop's door."

Crowley's head snapped up at those words. "Wha- I just- You thought-" He straightened and waved his hands. "Not that I don't want to! You're really- I mean, I do! But I just wanted a kiss!"

The only comfort from all of this was that they were both red in the face. Perhaps Crowley wanted the ground to swallow him up as well. "Oh! Oh, just a kiss?"

"Yeah. Yeah, just a kiss," Crowley agreed. He chewed at his bottom lip.

"Well, that would be fine. Could you take off the glasses? Your eyes- I mean, they're quite nice." He squeezed the knee underneath his hand and smiled at Crowley.

The sunglasses were whipped off his face and tossed onto the table carelessly, leaving Azira a bit breathless as Crowley's eyes stared unblinkingly back at him. It was an entirely too intense gaze from someone who looked as stunning as Crowley did. Those lips were curved up into such a sweet smile, and oh, he already knew how charming Crowley was!

They both shifted on the couch, scooting closer to each other. Azira kept his hand where it was, and his breath caught as Crowley's hand moved to cup his cheek. He was still catching up with what was going on when they leaned in and pressed their lips together.

There was no denying what was happening with a soft, warm mouth against his own. Crowley's lips were moving, gently at first, and then with increasing pressure. Azira wanted to melt. He leaned in further, making a small noise that seemed to shiver through him.

Crowley leaned back, eyes scanning Azira's face. "Okay?"

He thought it was rather a silly question with how he must look right now. "Oh, it was lovely!" He ducked his head and then looked back up. "Perhaps we might do it again, Crowley?"

The grin that broke out on Crowley's face was worth the embarrassment of the question. Then their lips were pressing together again, combined with a bit of a hunger that led to open mouths and tongues curling against each other.

When they pulled back the second time, it was because if they didn't, they'd certainly start making out on the couch. Azira really didn't want to move to heavy petting and then watch customers sit on the couch the next day. "Oh, thank you-"

"-That was nice."

They both paused and then laughed, leaning away from each other.

"Do you, um, want to maybe...go out some time," Crowley hedged.

"You mean like a date?" At Crowley's nod, Azira beamed. "I'd love to. I'm quite rusty though." He drew his hand back from Crowley's knee to rub against his pants again. "I mean, not that it's been too long, but just that it's been a while since I dated!

"And I'm quite afraid I wouldn't know where to go-"

"Which would you prefer: movies or dinner?" The words came out in a rush, and as Crowley inhaled, perhaps prepared to add more details, Azira interjected.

"Dinner would be lovely! I'm not allergic to anything or picky about food. You can surprise me. I'm sure I'll love it. Dating is about getting to know people anyways, not just going places," he assured.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, of course! Um, maybe next Saturday night? It'd give me a chance to prepare. I mean, you know, call a place and get things...um, ready." He lounged back into the couch, but he kept shifting as if he couldn't get comfortable.

"Yes!" He couldn't keep from wriggling his shoulders. He was excited and nervous! He was surprised as well. He never would have guessed someone like him, with his classic style of clothing and bookish attitude would have attracted someone who seemed as flashy and modern as Crowley! It was all a bit of a whirlwind, and he liked the dizzying sensation of it. "Next Saturday sounds perfect! I don't open up early on Sundays. I suppose that's habit from my upbringing."

"Oh? Uh, religious kind of upbringing?" Crowley leaned toward Azira, eyes still naked and very expressive. It was no wonder he kept them hidden, though Azira had just assumed it was a statement of some sort.

"Yes. I, um, all my family are actually deep in the C of E. They're all either vicars or married to one." He smiled hesitantly. "They didn't like my choices."

Crowley frowned and nodded. "I remember. You said that." He reached out a hand, running a hand over Azira's hair. It felt divine! "Don't think my family would have approved either, but as long as we're happy or at least content, doesn't matter what they think. Well, shouldn't matter what they think."

He tilted his head into the touch and was sad when the hand fell away. "I'm rather afraid it still can affect us. Emotionally maybe," Azira admitted.

"Yeah…. I don't regret any of it though."

Before Azira could ask what he meant, Crowley was standing, stretching with such drama that his shirt slipped up to reveal the skin around his stomach. Azira stared.

"Think I'll head out. Before I'm tempted to do more than kiss you."

Azira's eyes widened, looking up to catch Crowley's eyes on him and an amused smile on his face. He stood up with a blush on his cheeks. "Yes, of course! Let me unlock the door."

"Actually...you mind taking me out the back way? I wanna be a little cliche and walk you to your door so we can kiss again."

Good lord, the man was so smooth he might faint!

"Oh, uh, yes. The back door!" He smiled, ducked his head down, and circled around the table. His heart was beating so loud he thought Crowley must be able to hear it. He moved around the counter, through the kitchen area, and opened the back door.

Azira hadn't realized it was still raining when he stepped out, and it took only a few seconds before he was thoroughly soaked. He felt a hand grab him and pull him back into the warmth of the shop. Crowley laughed as he shut the door for him, running hands over Azira’s damp hair. "It's still raining," Crowley teased.

"We-well I know that now," he groused. He was pouting. It wasn't his fault he'd become so distracted! "It was just a quick run upstairs!"

Chuckling, Crowley leaned forward. Azira went still as their foreheads touched. From this close Crowley's eyes had a gold shine to them, and his smile brightened his face. "You're adorable!"

Their lips pressed together again, and Azira melted, his hands reaching to clutch at Crowley's lapels. When a tongue slid across his lips, he parted them with a soft groan. Their tongues intertwined, twisting together before Crowley drew it into his mouth to suck.

Azira could feel his pants grow a bit tight.

They parted a moment later, both panting and red-cheeked. "Well," Azira tried for affront as he smoothed his hands over the lapels as if straightening them. "I am quite glad I'm cute enough to warrant a kiss like that, Crowley. It's flattering."

Crowley leaned back, his face doing a complex series of expressions before settling on bewilderment. "Fla- Warr-" He chuckled and reached a hand to run down the side of Azira's face. "You're a wonder. Stepped right out of a Victorian novel."

Azira shifted on his feet, struggling to keep breathing when all he wanted to do was kiss Crowley again. "Oh, I quite like Jane Austen though…."

"I believe it! She's the one that wrote…." He arched a brow as he waited.

"Well she wrote many books, but Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice are my favorites. The...the second better than the first." Azira chuckled and waved a hand between them. "The, uh, dashing male lead there is named Crowley."

Both eyebrows rose. "Really? You're serious?"

Laughing, Azira nodded. "I'm afraid so. I'm no Elizabeth though. We certainly aren't pretending to dislike each other."

"No. I don't tend to pretend to dislike someone I like." His smile was enough to make Azira feel lightheaded, but the words made something inside him soar.

"O-oh. Yes, well me either." He chuckled. "I, um, really should be heading upstairs. And you have...you called a ride, right?"

"Mmm, yes, I did." Crowley hesitated, stepping back and opened his mouth as if he might speak. Then he nodded and moved to open the door. Stepping outside, he opened the umbrella Azira had been too flustered to notice. It was one he owned and kept near the back door just for such occasions.

Moving under the protection of it, they awkwardly walked up the stairs together, a tight fit on the staircase not meant for two. They managed it to Azira's door, where he fumbled with the keys until he'd unlocked the door. The umbrella leaned in to allow him into his flat and keep him dry.

He turned around once across the doorjamb, smiling at Crowley. "Thank you. I mean, for keeping me dry, and, um, for liking me." It felt so foolish after he'd said it, but Crowley's face lit up. His eyes were shining.

Then he was pulling his sunglasses out from his front pocket, shoving them on his face and nodding. "I hope you like me too."

"I do!" He leaned against the door at the exclamation. Really, he so rarely found himself in this situation. Goodness, not since college, and usually people shrank from his dramatics.

Crowley swayed toward the door, smiling with a charm that could convince Azira to sell him a book. Well, it could possibly convince him to sell him a book.

"One last kiss for tonight?"

He stepped in close to Crowley, reaching to cup his cheek, slide his hand back into his hair, and enjoy the way Crowley inhaled before he kissed him. This one was sweet, soft, and lingering. He wanted Crowley to feel it on his way home.

Crowley pressed into him, and Azira felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. This was nice. It was simple and just the right speed for him. He preferred this kind of courting, and he wondered if Crowley enjoyed it too.

He rather thought he must because when they leaned back, he was smiling, eyes still closed, and looked as content as a cat in the sun.

"There. I hope that holds you until we see each other again," Azira teased, leaning against his door again. The cold air and some rain was coming into his flat, but he didn't mind it a bit.

Blinking open his eyes, Crowley's smile turned soft, and he nodded. "Yeah. I think it will. If it wears off, I can stop by for a refill? Ugh, that sounded-" He grimaced.

"No! I mean, yes, you can. You'd never be a bother." Azira held onto the door with one hand. Goodness, this was out of one of his period romances for sure. He'd never thought these things could happen!

"Ah, good. Well, um, I'd best wait for my ride. I-I'll call you before next Saturday. Friday night. Would that be okay?" He shoved a hand in his pocket, the other setting down the umbrella inside Azira's doorway.

"Yes. That'll be fine. You can call the coffee shop. It redirects into my flat. Afraid I don't have a cell phone." He was sure he'd never hear the end of it from the wine club after this. They'd already been eyeing the two of them knowingly all night. He was sure they'd been giggling the entire ride home.

Crowley's lips pursed, likely at the idea of someone not owning a cell phone, and then he grinned. "Alright. I'll see you, Azira."

"Yes. See you, Crowley." Despite how awkward the goodbye sounded, when he closed the door and pressed back against it, Azira could only think about how wonderful next Saturday would be, and how lovely Crowley was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was a little later. I had friends over when I would have posted, but I luckily had this edited and ready for posting!
> 
> I hope you liked their first kisses! I think Azira's brain went fuzzy with them. Next chapter is the date! And actual sexual content! Woo-boy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azira and Crowley go on their first date. The location is familiar to those outside of the fourth wall, and herein also lies some intimacy. There's also some talking about pasts. Will a second date be on the calendar? What does the future hold for the blossoming couple?

Crowley had called the shop on Friday night, just as he'd promised. He'd taken the call while the entire group was there so the wine club hadn't stopped asking Azira questions for the rest of the night. He'd endured, only mildly embarrassed, and made it to Saturday night unscathed.

He'd changed into a waistcoat he didn't wear often, that felt crisp and new, and debated on which bowtie to wear until he'd settled on a tartan pattern that was comforting. He had his jacket on and held it by the lapels as he stood outside of the book shop at fifteen till.

Five minutes later, an expensive, classic, black car pulled up to the curb. Azira stared at it with an open mouth, uncomprehending, until Crowley stepped out of the driver's side. The shocked expression on his face was something Crowley obviously wanted to soak in. He leaned against the car and smirked proudly.

"It's an 1836 Bentley. The first with an 8-litre engine." He reached to pat the car door, shooting it a fond glance before looking at Azira with a raised brow. "Like it?"

"It's lovely, Crowley!" He couldn't even begin to imagine how much it had cost. Then he wondered how someone with so much money could possibly want to date him.

The thought froze him in place, eyes wide and hands tight on his jacket. He was just a boring, old-fashioned coffee shop owner devoted to his books, lonely around the edges and stuck in his ways. Crowley was all flash and passion.

He remained like that until Crowley said, "Well, you have to get in it."

Azira turned his attention from his conflict to Crowley's smiling face. He had moved around the car to open the door and was holding it open for him. A hand was held out to him, fingers curled invitingly.

Azira felt his chest clench as his heart beat faster, breathing in a rush that felt like relief. He couldn't turn such a gentlemanly gesture away.

Releasing his coat, he took the proffered hand, feeling those warm fingers curl into his palm. He smiled, literally sliding into the seat and pursing his lips. "Ooh, leather!"

"Only the best," was the rejoinder before the door gently closed. Crowley slipped in beside him and started the car, continuing to speak. "So I booked us a place at a bit of a fancy restaurant. I hope that doesn't bother you."

"Really it's all quite lovely! I'm a little overwhelmed." He wriggled his shoulders and patted his pants, beaming at Crowley. It was a lot to take in, the fact that Crowley so obviously had money, but could Azira forget the little blushes, the stammered words of affection, or the kisses of just a week ago?

Giving a satisfied nod, Crowley pulled away from the curb. As they began to pick up speed, and weave in and out of traffic at sharp angles, Azira gripped the door handle in white-knuckled alarm, teeth gritted and eyes wide.

There was a reason he didn't have a car himself and didn't drive anywhere. He was scared to death of it. He liked to walk or use public transit to get him around London. Now, as Crowley pressed down on the gas and jerked the steering wheel around a corner, Azira felt his heart jump into his throat and dearly wished he had suggested taking the bus.

He squeaked, "Oh, you're going so fast!"

To his chagrin, Crowley just grinned over at him. "Sure am. Don't like it fast, Azira?"

"Oh, oh no! I quite like it slow." He frowned as Crowley chuckled. "Really, couldn't you slow it down...just a bit?"

"We'll be late otherwise. You don't want us to be late, do you," he replied matter-of-factly. "I'll get us there safe. See? I'm not on anyone's ass."

"Y-yes! Not too close to anyone...except when you- Oh! There was a pedestrian, Crowley. You can't just hit people!"

Crowley snorted. "I didn't hit her. She's fine. Slowed down so she could run across."

Huffing, Azira sank back into the leather seat. "This is definitely something we're going to argue about, Crowley."

Surprisingly, Crowley laughed. "Yeah. Think I'm fine with us arguing about it though. Had much worse arguments. You can drive us next time."

"I can't- I don't have a car. I never learned how to drive really. I'm too- I tried. It didn't work out." He worried at the door's handle with his fingers.

He could feel Crowley glance at him, but he'd much rather he kept his eyes on the road. His speed slowed, however, and he stopped weaving in and out of traffic. "Oh? Well, it's not for everyone. Don't have to drive."

Turning his head, he smiled at Crowley. He hadn't pressed for specifics, and the fact that'd he'd slowed down was kind. He imagined they might still fuss with each other over this, but he'd hate to think of why Crowley would rather fight about this. "Thank you, my dear."

Crowley swallowed, color high on his cheeks and eyes firmly on the road, and made a couple of wordless noises before managing to speak. "Yeah. No problem."

Moments later, he was pulling into a parking spot in front of a restaurant Azira had heard of before. "The Ritz? Crowley, this is…." He trailed off, his eyes caught with the glow from the building.

"It's alright?"

He beamed at Crowley, twisting in his seat to lean over and press a kiss to Crowley's cheek. "It's perfect. Goodness, reservations take so much time!"

"Yeah," Crowley shifted in his seat, smiling reservedly. "I kind of know some people. Nothing big, just called in a small favor."

"I'd say it's more than a small favor." As Azira reached for the door handle, Crowley grabbed his arm.

"Oh, hold on!" He jumped out of the car, jogging around the car, and opening the door again. He passed the valet the keys as Azira climbed out, which gave him time to compose himself. How could one person be this dashing?

As the valet pulled away slowly in the Bentley, Crowley narrowed his eyes after the car and then turned to loop his arm casually with Azira's. "Now if I'd tried to get a room too, that'd be a big favor."

Azira stumbled, only held up by Crowley's arm. "Oh my!" He pressed a hand to his chest and blinked at Crowley owlishly.

Holding up a hand, Crowley chuckled. "I'm joking! I'm not here to steal your chastity!"

"Why I never!" His head tipped upwards, lips a firm line. "As if I'm some blushing virgin. Really, Crowley, I'm old enough to know the pleasures of male company in bed."

He felt hips brush his own and turned to stare at a face that looked…hungry. "Pleasures of male company? Never thought that'd sound sexy."

Flushing, he was only too happy to be interrupted by the maitre'd, who asked for the name of their reservation. Crowley's intense gaze behind his sunglasses eased off Azira, and he breathed

They were led to the table, seated, and given menus. Azira wriggled his shoulders at the selections, his mouth already salivating. "Doesn't the duck sound scrumptious?"

"It does." Crowley's voice sounded muffled, and Azira looked up from his menu to see Crowley's head ducked behind his. He was studying it as if he might be asked if he'd memorized it later or surprised with a quiz. It was so endearing. "You want appetizers?"

"Could we? That'd be quite lovely! And maybe some champagne. To celebrate."

Crowley's hand rose, removing the sunglasses to place them on the table. His eyes were open with curiosity. "Celebrating what exactly?"

"Well, I mean, I'd rather imagined this was a first date." He laid down his menu and fiddled with the corners with his fingers, smiling hesitantly as he finished, "Unless I'm-"

"Oh, no! It's definitely a date. A first date." Crowley's warm smile stayed on his face.

"Well then, champagne and after-dinner dessert?" He felt like nothing else was around when Crowley stared at him like that.

"Whatever you'd like." The words were weighted. Crowley cleared his throat and glanced down.

The waiter saved them both this time, and Crowley let Azira order first before he ordered the salmon. Then there was silence as the menus were taken, and they were left with nothing between them.

Reaching for the water, Azira took a fortifying drink, and then decided he should start off. "So, I should probably talk more about...my past. I mentioned the Church."

Crowley nodded, leaning in toward the table, smiling encouragingly. "Yeah. The good ol' C of E. You said most of your family are vicars?"

"Yes. They wanted me to be one too." He smiled softly, twisted the cup between his fingers, and stared at the water inside it. "I was to attend a private college. I wanted to too, at first. My upbringing was strict. I wasn't allowed anything that wasn't structured by my parents, and I was home schooled as well."

He glanced up and chuckled at Crowley. "That's perhaps why I'm so...awkward?"

"I think you're fine," Crowley was quick to assure. Azira felt warmed by the response.

"Yes, well, at any rate, I met someone. We bumped into each other at church one Sunday. He was fascinating. He would spout the loveliest poetry, and I'd never heard the like before.

"When I asked him what it was from, he let me borrow Emily Dickinson. Oh, but I fell in love with her, Crowley! She let my imagination run free."

"And the boy?" Crowley gave a little, knowing smirk.

Azira smiled. "Ah, unfortunately he wasn't of my persuasion. He married a lovely girl. They live in the country now. I was lucky. He didn't take my affections with any offense. He was quite polite about it."

"Ah, that's-" Crowley's smirk faltered as he sighed and smiled softly. "Actually it sucks. Even if it was good."

"Well, yes, that's true. But it was just a- I knew it wasn't deep. He just fascinated me. Of course, realizing I was homosexual didn't make my life easy. I had to hide the books I wanted to read, like anything by Oscar Wilde or Lord Byron. My, but that would have been rather obvious."

"You know, it might not have been." Crowley chuckled. "The straights like to ignore the obvious."

Blinking, Azira stared at Crowley in surprised before he barked out a laugh. "Oh! The straights. That's hilarious, Crowley!" It probably wasn't something brand new Crowley had made up on the spot, given the amused expression on his face, but Azira was just delighted by it.

"Yeah," Crowley agreed, leaning back as the waiter returned with a bottle of champagne. He popped the cork with a flourish and poured them each a half glass. He immediately picked it up to take a drink.

Azira picked up his own glass but held off on a drink to finish. "At any rate, they never found out the changes that had occurred until it came time to go away to college. I had secretly applied to a secular school. I told them the day I was leaving and took my bags on a bus."

"You didn't? Azira, that's...that's brave! Bold even!" Crowley was grinning in delight. "Were they mad?"

"Fuming!" He leaned in toward Crowley, taking a drink now. "They disowned me. All except Aunt Tracy, but she was always the black sheep of the family. She told me we had to stick together as outcasts of the family."

"She sounds like someone I'd like." Crowley smiled. "And college?"

"I went immediately into literature. I spent all my time in the library. I thought I wanted to work in one, but I got rather caught up in the classics. I began to collect them then, working part time in a grocery store. Then I'd go to flea markets on my days off. I'd find some seller that didn't realize what they had on their hands. There was no way I could pay full price for what I wanted."

"And you didn't become a professor?" Crowley was leaning his head on his hand as he balanced his elbow with the table. He looked engrossed in the story, and Azira couldn't begin to imagine it was faked.

"Oh, no. Becoming a permanent professor after your probation is quite difficult. I wanted to work for myself. I took some business classes and opened up a bookstore once I graduated."

"Then you found out you didn't like selling books and opened up with the coffee shop."

"Exactly right." He took a drink and raised a brow. "An-and you, Crowley?" He tried and failed to hide how curious he was.

Crowley's smile slid into something that didn't fit as well on his face. "Ah, I came from money. Inherited it all when my parents died. I knew I was attracted to guys at a young age. Did what I wanted when I pleased.

"An ex told me I'd do well to put my art up. I did and it sold...for a lot. Got to my head, so I painted...well, anything that was marketable. Then I um, broke up...with him two months ago. It's kind of been a- Well, I mean, I'm just trying to find a new stride is all.

"Art block, I think. That's what it is." His smile eased then, as he leaned back in his seat and stretched out his legs. "Then Gabriel said he found your shop online. He said I should try something new. And so- Well, here we are!" He gestured to the Ritz.

Azira chuckled. "Yes, here we are." He knew there were unspoken things, but it was the same with him. Some things weren't meant to be aired on a first date. What they had shared had been nice. "And...well, I'm having a lovely time, Crowley. I know we've barely begun but it's lovely!"

Crowley's smile took up all of his face. "Good. Good. You deserve, well," he began, clearing his throat, "all of this."

"Oh, you're so...kind." There were so many adjectives that Azira could use, but Crowley really did seem like a kind-hearted man.

"Ah, well-" Crowley breathed out as the waiter arrived with their appetizers. They were quiet then as they placed little bits of the food onto their plates, eating and making sparse comments on the flavors.

After the main dinners arrived, their conversation went to lighter topics. The latest political news, which they both delightfully agreed upon, and then onto a topic Crowley was passionate about and Azira could keep up with: art.

"Yes, but we can agree that the commercialism of art is what always ruins it. And there are those who are famous today who eschewed it." Azira nodded. "Why the most robust political statements have been made by artists. Look at Dontello's David!"

Crowley nodded, swallowing before he pointed the fork at Azira. "To be a fly on the wall when the Duke of Milan saw what he'd rendered! I bet he was spitting fire!"

Azira nodded, pouring himself another glass of champagne. "Apparently, he deserved it."

"Awakened my sexuality," Crowley added.

"Donatello's David did? Oh my. He was a bit...well what do they call it?"

"A twink," Crowley face lit up with amusement.

"Yes. That." Azira's lips pulled downward as he wrinkled his nose. "Really, the words used nowadays…."

"I can barely keep up, and I'm on the internet a lot."

"The story of David was nice though," Azira commented, leaning to the side slightly. There were no more nerves. He felt blanketed by warm, good food and champagne bubbles.

"Yeah? You mean where he took down the giant? Uh, Goliath?" Crowley took another bite of his food. He ate slow, and it didn't look like he'd be able to finish it all in one setting. Azira's plate was empty already.

"Oh, the whole thing. After my- Well, after I realized I was queer, I went back and read the Bible. I was worried. I didn't need to be. It's love, isn't it? And David's story was so delightful. I like to think he was in love with Jonathon."

"Hm, think God doesn't care that we're gay?"

"Oh, no, I don't believe so. I still have my faith. I just went on a different path. I think that's fine. We're not in the Dark Ages. We don't have to follow the rites of succession and proscribed marriages." Azira chuckled, wriggling his shoulders as he spied dessert coming. He picked up his spoon as a pastry with fresh cream and strawberries was set in front of him.

Crowley pushed aside his own main plate, digging into the dessert with gusto. "Can't believe some people still do that stuff." He wrinkled his nose and looked over at Azira. His fork hung in the air, mouth open, as he stilled.

Azira had just let the fork of cream and cake and strawberries slide from his lips, and perhaps he had moaned a bit. He was definitely looking at Crowley with a lidded gaze, but the dessert was simply so good!

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Do continue, my dear. It's just so good!"

"I can see that." Crowley had moved his fork to his plate and was leaning his chin on his hand again, his own eyes narrowed in contemplation. "No," he continued, tilting his head up and stroking his neck, "I didn't have anything else to say on it really."

His fingers were entirely too long to be caressing his skin like that. Azira swallowed and smiled. "Oh, well." He swirled his fork around to catch the last of the dessert and pop it into his mouth. "I am…done. I mean, if you are-"

"I'll get the check." Crowley's hand shot up in the air, and Azira couldn't contain his giggle. The smile he got in return told him they might be thinking of the same thing.

The waiter was too slow to handle their check and get the leftovers for Crowley, but soon they were hand in hand out of the doors. Moments later, the Bentley pulled up to the curb. They barely took their eyes off each other until they were both seated in the car.

Crowley took them away from the Ritz and onto the main roads. "Thought, uh, I thought we could stop by a place. It's an overlook where we can park and sit and…enjoy the night."

Blinking, Azira smiled slyly over at Crowley, holding onto the door handle but passified enough by champagne he didn't mind the hairpin turns and high speed as much. "You mean makeout?"

Crowley's hands squeezed around the wheel. "Uh, I mean- Well, I can drop you off at-"

"I'd like to makeout with you, Crowley. Though, no sex for now, if you don't mind."

Crowley's eyes were wide and pinned to the road. "Yeah. Yeah, that's fine. Making out. No sex. All clear."

Azira turned back to watching the road, trying not to wince at every close shave. He let his hand fumble at his buttons, wishing they'd brought a bottle he could drink from. His skin felt jumpy. He was glad he couldn't focus right now, or he'd be babbling. As it was, the silence stretched uncomfortably between them.

It rather felt like anticipation.

Minutes later, they were pulling onto a small side road, and then Crowley turned the Bentley to park it near a guardrail overlooking a small lake. It was a scene out of any cliche teen romance movie.

It was all rather charming to Azira. He turned to Crowley as the car was shut off and reached to lay his hand on top of Crowley's on the wheel. Grasping it, he slid it toward him and kissed the back of it.

"I hope I'm not too old-fashioned for you, Crowley. You seem like someone used to quite modern things, and I know it's nothing alarming these days for sex to occur right away. I just...like to get to know someone. It's never just sex to me."

Rubbing a hand across his face, Crowley chuckled. "You're making this more than just sex for me too. I like it," he admitted. He smiled at Azira and reached to cup his cheek. "I don't think it's old-fashioned. It, uh, means something? If we want to do this right? Not like going to a club to pick someone up."

"Or a coffee shop," he teased.

Crowley laughed, tossing back his head with ease. "Or a coffee shop. Listen, I know I seem...well, like a spoiled snob. I am a bit of one, but I meant what I said. I like you. I want to get to know you, Azira. You...fascinate me, but a bit more than - you know - a bit more than what you described.

"I-I have a habit of ruining things, so I just want to not ruin this. So you tell me, and we'll keep it at your own pace."

Tucking Crowley's hand under his own chin, Azira smiled. "You're so open. I can't imagine you ruining anything. Now, that's not to say what you feel isn't valid, but I think, if we communicate, we'll find ourselves doing fine. Oh, we might fight, and-

"Well, I rather think I'm besotted with you-"

"Besotted?" Crowley sounded bewildered.

"Hush!" He brought that captured hand up to his lips and nipped at the tips of his fingers. Crowley gasped and went obediently silent. "I mean that this is more than just a passing fancy, Crowley. I'd like to be a part of your life, and if you like, you can become part of mine."

Crowley nodded, biting at his lower lip. Azira leaned in, pressing his nose against Crowley's. They tipped their heads at the same time, closing their eyes as they kissed sensually and slowly. This wasn't the half-passionate and excited kisses of a week ago. This was searching, exploring, and consuming.

Azira felt his toes curl, leaning into the kiss before he made a noise, breaking away to a whine from Crowley that made him smile indulgently. "If you'd help me, dear?"

Crowley's hands went to Azira's arms, supporting him as Azira tried not to make a complete fool of himself as he clambered from his seat over to Crowley's lap. Crowley's hand fumbled at his side, finally catching the lever that allowed the seat to go back so the wheel wasn't pressing into Azira's back.

"Ah, thank you." Straddling his lap, now he could card his fingers through Crowley's hair, mussing it as he wanted as he leaned back in to resume their kissing.

The noises Crowley made, breathy and tight, spurred Azira on, until tongues were twisting wetly between them. He pressed his hips forward until he felt the touch of Crowley's hard cock against his own. Then he leaned back.

"You're so darling."

Crowley opened his eyes at the words, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed. "You are...amazing," he breathed.

Chuckling, he tugged on Crowley's hair, pleased to hear a gasp much like when he nipped his fingers. When Crowley craned his neck back, he placed a kiss on it. Then used his tongue to lick a long line from breastbone to chin.

Crowley's hips moved, seeking friction, and Azira thrust toward him, gasping as they rubbed together before he sucked on Crowley's skin.

They weren't having sex, not really, but Azira knew they weren't going to just leave each other this achingly hard. That would be rude. He kept a hand in his hair and shoved the other between them, rubbing at Crowley's erection through his slacks.

He had to be less comfortable than Azira with his pants that tight. "Is this okay?"

"Do you…have to ask? Please don't stop," Crowley gasped.

"I won't, my dear. If you could-" A hand stroking his cock through his own trousers made his breath shudder. "Oh, thank you!"

Crowley chuckled. "So polite...during sex?"

"It's only fair."

They didn't speak for several moments after that, lips trailing across exposed skin, hands working over each other until Crowley shuddered, biting down a cry as he came, hips thrusting into the air as he stained his trousers.

Pressing his lips onto Crowley's with a loud moan, Azira pushed his cock onto Crowley's long fingers, muffling his own yell in his mouth as he followed just as messily.

Leaning their foreheads together, they spent time regaining breath before Crowley chuckled. "I feel like a damn teenager."

"I quite like the feeling actually, since I haven't felt like one since I was a teenager," Azira chided with a grin.

Crowley laughed. "You're delightful!" He kissed Azira again. "Mm, I think, um, that we should get you back home. Or we're both going to feel uncomfortable soon."

Long, slim hands helped him back over to his seat, and Azira spent some time fixing his wrinkled clothing as Crowley started the car back up. Azira didn't notice the drive back through the afterglow, though he rather thought that Crowley drove at a more sedate pace.

He'd have to remember that for the future.

Pulling up to the curb outside the coffee shop, Crowley parked the car and turned to Azira. "Really. This was great. I, um, well it was great. We can do this again?"

"Make out in the Bentley?" Azira arched a brow and grinned at Crowley.

Sputtering, Crowley went red. "No! I mean, yes, of course I want that again. Maybe with a change of clothing though." He grimaced and moved on his seat, sticking out his tongue.

Azira laughed.

Crowley continued, "I meant this date. A second date, I mean. Just talking to each other. I'll make it something different. Maybe...an art museum!"

"Oh, that does sound lovely! Of course I want that, Crowley." He took Crowley's hand and squeezed it. "I'd even love to stay in the car with you and talk more, but I'm afraid I might be drying."

Crowley broke out into surprised laughter, shoving at him with their clasped hands. "Then get inside and clean up! I'll call you or drop by, and we'll go out! I mean, we'll figure out when's best."

"Honestly, Crowley, other than Friday nights, I don't really have a social life. Anytime should be fine." He squeezed their hands together one last time and climbed awkwardly out of the Bentley, closing the door behind him and walking to the alleyway that led to his flat.

He chanced a glance behind him as he made it to the stairs to see Crowley half out of the door of the Bentley, smiling at him. They waved, and Azira felt the warmth in his heart settle fully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of differences between the UK and America I'm finding out. Which, duh, but as someone commented, you never do realize how many differences there are.
> 
> Jaywalking? Not a thing in the UK.  
> Tenure? Not a think in the UK.  
> I couldn't even find details of sundry stores, but thank god they had flea markets!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and next chapter is minus sex but introduces Gabriel, finally. He was challenging for me, but I ended up enjoying him a lot!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before their second date, Crowley arrives at the coffee shop with a special guest. Everything is going quite well...until some other, darker guests arrive! What will Azira do? Will Crowley support him? And Crowley's guest, what's their role in all this?

Days later, he grinned as he saw a familiar redhead wearing black open the door to his shop. He served the customer in front of him, trying not to be too obvious with his stolen glances to see around them. When they finally moved, he was surprised to see Crowley had someone at his side.

He had a square jaw made less severe by the smile on his face, though the quality of it seemed practiced and a bit artificial. His darkly greyed hair was short on the side and the top was laid over precisely. He wore a cream-colored suit, loose and formal.

Azira looked at Crowley with a questioning brow and Crowley glanced to the taller man beside him. He looked chagrined. "Uh, hey, Azira. I, uh, was in the neighborhood and Gabriel was with me, and-"

"I wanted to see what all the fuss was about," Gabriel chimed in with a strong American accent. A hand patted Crowley's shoulder, and Azira didn't miss the eye roll Crowley gave the gesture. Gabriel's voice was booming. His entire presence was big, in fact, and what Azira assumed most Americans resembled. Crowley was leaning away from it with a mortified expression.

"Oh, well, there's no fuss surely," Azira began. "We just serve coffee here. Pastries and tea too. People read books. Would you like to order something?" He brought his hands below the counter so he could toy with the buttons on his waistcoat.

Gabriel was leaning toward the counter and thus his body pressed toward Azira. It felt invasive, though Gabriel's dark eyes were locked onto the menu and unaware of the discomfort he was causing. Azira knew these types of people. They weren't perceptive of how others felt around them. They made Azira nervous.

"Yes, an iced mocha with extra cream, and he'll have a chamomile tea. That way he can get the sleep he needs." That hand clapped Crowley's shoulder again as dark eyes gave Azira a once over then turned to Crowley and winked.

Crowley was conspicuously not looking at Gabriel, but he seemed used to the touch at least even if it did jostle him. "What Gabriel means," he ground out, “is that I will have a black tea and an angel cake, and he will need to get dairy-free cream."

"Oh, it won't be that bad, Anthony. A little bit doesn't hurt me," he insisted. Gabriel frowned for only a moment before his smile turned back on like high beams. "So...Crowley tells me you have wine here? I don't see any though." He gestured toward the menu

"I told you-" Crowley began to grumble.

"-oh, that was a meeting of friends, I'm afraid," Azira interjected helpfully. " Nothing I sell. It's a special group, and since I run it, I thought it would be okay to invite Crowley. He told me he quite likes wine." He bustled behind the counter to get their orders, letting the coffee brew while he prepared Crowley's tea.

He heard a choked noise behind him and turned his head to see Gabriel with wide eyes looking between him and Crowley. Crowley's shoulders were hunched up to his ears. His cheeks were painted with blush.

"You told him to call you-"

"Shut. Up. Gabriel."

He wasn't sure what the exchange meant, but when he walked back over with the tea, his confusion must have been evident. Gabriel slapped Crowley's back and began to explain. "Only really-"

"I swear, Gabriel-"

"-special people-"

"-if you don't shut up-"

"-get to call him-"

"-I'm never attending-"

"Crowley." Gabriel grinned victoriously. "He must like you."

"-one of your parties ever again," Crowley hissed.

As Azira processed the two overlaid sentences, he felt himself blush as well. "Well, Crowley is special to me too," he responded simply, turning back to the espresso machine to prepare the rest of the mocha and steam the soy milk.

Crowley choked as Gabriel cried in a distressed tone, "You can't just not come to my parties! You're the reason the parties happen!"

By the time he returned with the mocha latte with cream piled on top, Crowley was giving Gabriel a crooked grin. He thought they must be friends, despite the teasing Crowley had to endure. "That's because you're boring."

"I just have more sense in the modern tastes of humankind than everyone else," Gabriel insisted, reaching out to take the latte and smiling at Azira. It still looked like a car salesman's grin, but he seemed to speak with sincerity.

"Uh-huh. Like the newest studio you've selected for me."

"Oh, you have a studio," Azira blurted, clasping his hands together as if he would clap them in his excitement. "I mean, you're showing art at one? Is your break over then?" Azirpahale hoped that didn't mean he would stop coming around, even if they had said they'd go on a second date.

Gabriel turned to Azira with a predatory expression, baring teeth in his smile. "Why yes! He is showing his art! He didn't tell you? Anthony!"

"I haven't had time!"

"To tell him of your newest work? Well, he has to come now."

"He has to-"

"What?" Azira blinked. Gabriel talked fast. That was probably why he worked as an art agent. He wondered if he'd been an art broker before and how he and Crowley might have met.

Oh, even thinking Crowley's name made his heart warm, knowing what he did now about it.

"He has to come to the gallery for your show's opening, Anthony." Gabriel's tone changed as he ducked his head, holding out a credit card to pay for both drinks. The tone was one that brooked no argument. Azira swallowed and realized he was nodding in agreement.

He was impressed Crowley could even pout with that look in Gabriel's eyes. "Yeah. Of course. I was going to invite him. Azira, want to come to my show's opening at the art gallery? I can pick you up."

As Gabriel smugly took his cup to a seat near the window, Azira smiled. "I'd love to come, Crowley! I'd love to see your art!"

The blush crept back along Crowley's cheeks. "Oh, well, it isn't- I mean, it'll be okay, but afterwards we can get some dinner. Kind of like the prelude to our second date."

"That sounds quite lovely...Crowley." The emphasis was noted, and Crowley smiled. Azira brought out a plate of angel cake, and their hands brushed as he passed it over to Crowley across the counter.

"I’d, uh, invite you to sit with me, but Gabriel wouldn't leave us alone. He, um," he whispered, leaning in, "thinks he's my wingman."

Azira glanced to Gabriel, who held up his cup, pointing to it and mouthing words that might've said 'it's good'. Then he gave him a thumbs up. Azira covered his mouth with his hand and giggled. "Does he knew we're going on a second date?"

Crowley waved a hand. "Nah. He thinks I'm just making moon eyes at you. We'll let him think this was his doing? Would make him feel good."

Azira slid his eyes to Crowley and smiled, placing his hand over top Crowley's wrist where it rested on the glass countertop. "Well, if it makes him feel good. Do you make moon eyes at me?"

"O-oh hush." He darted his eyes to the side, but he didn't move his arm. "You practically swoon!"

"I do not-" A throat cleared, and they both jumped, straightening at the same time as they pulled away. "Oh," Azira said too loudly. "there's your order! Do enjoy the books!"

Crowley arched a brow, smirked, and then puckered up his lips in a kiss at him.

When he stepped out of the way of the customer waiting in line, they were greeted by Azira's wide eyes and red face. The customer was gracious at least, and the rest of the time passed as normal for a coffee shop.

He glanced over occasionally, mostly to see Gabriel talking, gesturing with his hands, and Crowley shoveling angel cake into his mouth and staring blankly at Gabriel. He felt rather sorry for Crowley. Gabriel was a strong, forceful personality, and Crowley seemed to like things at his own pace.

Still, he never would have met Crowley if Gabriel hadn't found this place.

The bell above the door brought his attention back to the front of the store. Smiling, he turned to face the newcomers. "Hello! How can I-"

The greeting stuck in his throat. Frowning, he glared at the men with hats and black business suits that stood glowering at him. "Ah. You two. I've already told you you're not welcome here. If you don't leave, I shall call the police," he snapped in clipped tones.

The skinnier of the two men leaned against the counter and tapped the glass. "You don't want to do that. We just want to talk. You know we're offering top dollar."

"And I am not selling," he stated firmly. He had raised his voice, not caring who heard. He knew attention made these men uncomfortable.

The other man, sporting a full beard, raised his hands into the air. "Come on. You know we can get this building. We'd much rather reach an agreement with you."

"I'm not even sure why you want to buy this place, but it is not for sale!"

The skinny suit leaned over the table, a hand reaching out toward Azira, but a smooth voice beside them halted the motion.

"These guys bothering you, Azira?"

He turned to shoot Crowley a relieved look and nodded. "They come in every week, Crowley! They say they want to buy the shop. I've told them it's not for sale. They can't have it."

Both men took a step back to face Crowley and Gabriel who was frowning behind him. "Well, that doesn't seem legal," was Gabriel's response.

"Hey, all perfectly legal! There's nothing illegal about-"

"Actually, it's called soliciting, and since this is his private property, if Azira wants you to leave, you have to leave." Crowley took a step forward, a swagger to his hips as he leaned toward the men.

Only one of them stepped back, the other was staring at Gabriel. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, me?" Gabriel flashed them a smile that was toothy as a shark's. "I'm calling the police. I'm going to call my lawyer next. You'll be looking at a restraining order." He gasped over-dramatically and began to walk toward the door. "I need to take a picture of your license plate!"

"Hey, you can't do that!" The bearded man followed after Gabriel, trying to stop his movement without actually touching him. Gabriel seemed unconcerned as he continued outside as if he'd walk over top the man.

The thinner turned to point at Azira. "We'll be getting our own lawyers involved now!"

"Get out of here!" Crowley lunged forward, stomping his foot on the ground. The other man shuffled back, frowning at them both, but then he turned and left.

Turning back to Azira, Crowley moved to go around the counter, reaching Azira's side to stand beside him, shifting foot to foot. "You alright?"

"Why yes, my dear, thank you." His hands were twisting over his waistcoat buttons. "They've been insistent I sell, and of course I won't, but they're so aggressive."

"Well, yeah, they're the mob."

"The what?" Azira's eyes widened. He breathed out slowly and reached to grab Crowley's arm as his knees wobbled. It curled around his own as Crowley pressed closer.

"Here. You have a chair in the kitchen. Let's go back there and sit." He started to guide Azira toward the back of the store, waving toward the front door where Gabriel was just entering.

Azira didn't resist being taken into the kitchen and sat in a chair. "Oh, yes. Thank you. So sorry. I'll be quite alright. I thought they were just rather pushy real estate agents." He felt light headed, and his chest was tight.

"Real estate agents don't do that." Crowley crouched down in front of him and at least looked more amused than worried. He kept a hold of Azira's hand and looked up at Gabriel. "Well?"

"We're going to file a police report. I'll have it faxed to my lawyer, and we'll make sure they know we're watching them." Gabriel sat down in another chair, crossing his ankles in front of him as the perfect picture of relaxation.

"You don't have to go to all that trouble! That's so much!" His hand in Crowley's felt firm and secure, warm and safe.

Crowley turned to Azira, squeezing his hand and leaning in toward him. "Listen, this is the best thing to do. They've been trying to crack down on guys like that for a while now. They're buying up places to use for their headquarters. People want to find them, and if they know they'll be looked for here, they'll stay away.

"But they said they'd get a lawyer," Azira protested. He did want it all to stop, but he'd never imagined it might even go this far. He thought if he said no they would just disappear.

Gabriel's voice was casual as he swiped through his phone. "They can't do anything legally. You own the place, right? My lawyer knows their tactics. I've run into them a couple of times when I was trying to open up a gallery, back when I was an art dealer."

"That's your-" Azira began to protest.

"You're borrowing him." Gabriel's eyes flickered up then with a hard gaze.

"You can't talk him out of it. Not when he gets like that." Gabriel gave them a smug smile and went back to his phone. "That's how he got me to sign our contract," Crowley assured. He squeezed Azira's hand again. "Hey, you've got a security system right? Cameras?"

"Y-yes. Do you think-?"

"I think that you'll be fine in your flat above the shop. We'll stay here with you. We saw what happened."

"Thank you. Both of you. You're really quite kind." He smiled just at Crowley though. "I should make myself some tea, and I still have customers."

Nodding, Crowley stood, offering a hand to help Azira to his feet. Gabriel followed them back out, pocketing his phone and going to the other side of the counter. Azira could feel his eyes on them as Crowley stayed near him.

As he went through the familiar motions of making himself tea, the tremble he hadn't noticed in his hands subsiding. He just needed to do something to get his mind off of it. That was always the best cure.

Turning his head as he allowed the tea to steep, he smiled at Crowley. "Oh, thank you, my dear. You don't have to hover. I'm quite alright now." He smiled at Gabriel, who was leaning against the counter and peering at his phone. He knew he was paying attention to him because he looked up with a question on his face.

"And thank you too. That was quick thinking calling the police and taking photos."

Gabriel grimaced. "That's what you're supposed to do." He turned his attention back to his phone. Azira shared a glance and a smile before Crowley rolled his eyes at Gabriel's nonchalance.

Azira believed actions spoke louder than words. He didn't know Gabriel well, but he knew Gabriel liked Crowley, and he apparently was proactive about protecting others' rights. That told him enough for now.

Crowley joined Gabriel at the counter and all three of them talked idly until the police arrived. Azira told his story first before Crowley and Gabriel supplied their statements. When the police left, Azira sat down in a chair and sighed.

He'd asked the remaining customers to leave when the police had entered, so now there was only the shop to close. He really didn't feel like closing it.

"I'll make sure to order the police report and get it and photos to my lawyer. He'll contact you," Gabriel recited, scrolling through his phone again before it rang. He placed it to his ear and walked away as he spoke into it.

"Well, exciting day,"

Azira smiled at Crowley who was holding his second cup of tea. That one was from Azira's personal collection so neither he nor Gabriel felt they had to pay. "It has been. Enough excitement for the week, I'd say."

Chuckling, Crowley stood, holding out his hand to Azira. "Can I escort you upstairs. You should get some rest. Have a relaxing bath. Watch something funny on the T.V."

"Oh, I can't possibly go upstairs now. I need to clean for opening tomorrow!" He took the hand, rising to his feet.

Crowley used that grip to pull Azira in closer, wrapping his arm around his shoulder and beginning to walk to the kitchen. "Nah. What about you rest tonight and tomorrow? I'll take you to the park. You hang up a sign saying you've taken a day off for yourself. The customers will understand."

"Crowley," he began with hesitance.

"When's the last time you took a vacation day? Every job you work you get vacations. I even get them. Came here, didn't I?"

They were halfway through the kitchen by this point, and he had to admit he didn't want to stay down here, cleaning up and preparing for tomorrow. A day at the park with Crowley sounded nice. He didn't even want to be here tonight, let alone all of tomorrow.

He still felt shaky inside.

"Oh, alright." The smile that broke through Crowley's face was worth it anyways. "Will you pick me up after lunch?"

"How about we make it a picnic as well? Something simple like sandwiches. Nothing you have to get prepared. I'll do it. Vacation is for you, remember?" He spoke fast as if he had to get the words out before Azira said no.

Azira didn't plan on saying no. "It sounds lovely, Crowley. Yes, let's go out and have a picnic at the park tomorrow." He leaned into Crowley's shoulder, smiling up at him.

Crowley's stare was dazed before he turned to open the back door. "I'll, um, walk you upstairs and then go get Gabriel. I'll make sure it's all locked tight."

They climbed the stairs together, much as they had the night it was raining. Now there was no rain to rush Azira indoors, so when they turned toward each other at the door, Azira leaned in and kissed him.

It was a soft and sweet press of lips, a silent thank you. Crowley soaked it up as he leaned into Azira. Smiling, he broke the kiss and reached to touch Crowley's cheek. "Thank you...for stepping in. I'm afraid most people are scared to do anything."

"Yeah, whole world is apathetic," he agreed, leaning into the caress. "You feel wonderful you know." He chuckled. "I mean, your kiss and also, um, you know, holding you."

"Well, you can cuddle with me anytime you wish, my dear." He smiled and then turned to unlock the door. When he stepped into the doorway and looking back at Crowley, he had a soft smile on his face.

"I'll call you around eleven, Azira." He canted a hip to the side and his grin turned roguish.

Blushing as his eyes followed the slide of that black shirt as it pushed up to expose his hip, Azira nodded. "Oh yes! Tomorrow. And tell Gabriel I said thank you again."

Crowley barked a laugh and waved as he began to trot down the stairs. "I will! It'll make him grumpy."

Azira laughed as he closed the door. He locked it, smiling, and then turned. The silence of the flat struck him as it hadn't before, and he remembered suddenly that the mob had threatened him today.

Crowley was right though. He would be fine! He did want to turn on the television, just for some comforting background noise.

He spent the next hour bathing, as had been suggested, eating dinner, and watching Golden Girls, which was always guaranteed to pick up his spirits. He couldn't help glancing at the window whenever headlights passed underneath or starting at loud noises.

Finally, sitting with a glass of wine and attempting to focus on Blanche, Dorothy, Sophia, and Rose and unable to, he rose with the glass in hand to stare out of the window to the street below.

There was a familiar black car parked across the street from his coffee shop.

Eyes widening, Azira pressed his nose to the glass to confirm it was the Bentley, huffed, and moved from the window to set his glass down on the table. He put on his coat over his tartan pajamas and made his way downstairs, through the alley, and to where the car was parked.

He could see the familiar outline of Crowley's face highlighted by the lit screen of his phone. He stood at the window, staring, but Crowley was engrossed at whatever was on his phone.

Crowley didn't make a good bodyguard, but the idea was so sweet that despite being aggravated he was outside his flat like a stalker, he did find it endearingly cute.

He rapped on the window and watched Crowley silently scream from inside it, jumping and fumbling with his phone until it landed on the other side of the car. He had shades on, but the height of his brows told Azira how wide his eyes were.

He looked chagrined as he rolled down the window, and then he had the audacity to seem completely unconcerned as he placed his elbow out the window. "Hey! Doing okay?"

Crowely-" He had to take a breath and start again or he might break out into giggles. "Crowley, what are you doing out here?"

"Oh, uh, well, don't be mad." He hunched his shoulders and grinned up at Azira.

Sighing, Azira shook his head and huddled into his coat as a cold breeze blew by. "I'm not mad!" He lowered his voice and pursed his lips. "Grab your phone and come inside, my dear. We can talk where it's warm."

Nodding his head, Crowley leaned over to get his phone and stepped out of the car, shoving his hands into his pants pockets as he followed Azira back to the stairs. Neither of them said anything until Azirpahale had gotten them both safe and warm inside.

Azira hung his coat on the rack and waved at Crowley. "You can have some wine. You must have been cold since you had the car turned off, which really was quite silly. If you-well, if you wanted to stay and watch over me, you could have asked."

He turned his head to smile at Crowley as he walked to the couch. "I would have said yes. It really did make me quite nervous, what happened today."

Crowley's lips were parted, the parts of his face exposed showing the same surprised look he'd had when Azira had startled him. He reached up to remove his glasses and smiled. "You are- I- You're wonderful, Azira!"

Azira hid his blush as he sat down and picked up his wine glass. "Oh, stop! Come sit down and have a drink with me. I'm watching Golden Girls."

"Really? I love that show!"

Azira beamed as Crowley sat on the couch beside him, picking up the wine bottle and pouring himself a glass. When Azira toed off his slippers and nudged at Crowley's legs, gesturing for him to remove his shoes, Crowley did so.

They sat in companionable silence after that. An explanation wasn't needed. Azira knew what Crowley had been doing, and he appreciated it. They'd just have to learn to communicate these things better. Azira had wanted Crowley to stay. Crowley had wanted to stay.

Next time they could avoid clandestine meetings like this.

The wine soon relaxed them enough that they scooted closer on the couch. Then Crowley tucked himself under Azira's arm slung over his shoulder. By the time the wine glasses were empty, Azira was asleep with Crowley following shortly after, cuddling into each other until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When my giftee said they wanted Gabriel in some capacity in my fic as a friend to Crowley and/or Aziraphale, I felt a real moment of despair. I never imagined I'd ever write him in a fair/good light, but adding him in in somewhat the same capacity he is in GO, as a businessman first, made him much easier to write. Then I ended up giving him an important task. Yay Gabriel! He'll show up in a later chapter too.
> 
> In other news, the stuff about the mob in the UK is true. They really do find shady ways to buy up property and make it into their headquarters. Articles I read said some real estate agents were indirectly complicit to it too. There's some hot tea.  
> _______________________________________________________  
> Update: I commissioned the wonderful Kelsey to recreate a scene from this fic. He created this marvelous piece, even including the Bentley, which I knew was quite an ask!
> 
> Look at the tone of magenta overlaying it all, the way Crowley’s hair is so wavy and careful, the shine of his sunglasses, the fond way Aziraphale gazes at him, partly amused, hands on his knees and sleeves rolled up.
> 
> I’m delighted with this art and hope you enjoy it too!
> 
> Do you want your own work from this talented artist that has done a captivating Lucian and Peter comic? You can find his commissions here: https://twitter.com/magicbubblepipe/status/1230956276076732422


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azira and Crowley go to the park...in the cold. This was not thought out on Crowley's part, but will Azira still enjoy the gesture? Some public indecency occurs, and Crowley reveals how things went down with his ex. These two are a bundle of nerves! Can they see through this to a happy ending? Spoilers: of course they can!

Azira folded his hands in his lap before remembering he had to grip the door handle to keep from sliding side to side as Crowley drove fast and hard through busy London streets. Despite the strain of not making surprised noises at every turn, he was happy.

Crowley and he had woken up together on the couch. They'd awkwardly disentangled from themselves as Azira had offered breakfast. Crowley refused only because he'd said he had to prepare for the picnic. They had shared a lingering kiss, hands clutching sleeves, at Azira's doorway, and Crowley had clung to his pajama top in a way that made his reluctance to leave obvious.

Several hours later he had pulled up, honking as only classic cars did, and they were on their way to the park.

"Ah, sorry about-" Crowley cleared his throat, bringing Azira out of his recollection. "It's pretty cold. I, um, didn't think about the weather when I asked you out." There was a blush on his cheeks.

Azira smiled, reaching to pat one of Crowley's legs. "No, you were right. This day off is just what I need to get my mind off yesterday."

"Good!" Crowley sounded like he was saying it to convince himself. "Good. I brought stuff to keep us warm too." He gestured to the back of the car where several blankets, a thermos of hot cocoa, the picnic basket, and a propane portable heater sat. He really had prepared well.

Wriggling his shoulders, Azira remained seated as Crowley parked and walked around to get his door. He quite liked the gesture. He did insist on helping carry some of the items, and then they made their way through the park toward a tree they could sit under.

Given the weather, they choose to sit in the sunlight, spreading the blanket and weighing it down before sitting down on it. Crowley set up the heater so it blew hot air at them both and then sat down, yanking a blanket over and wrapping it around Azira.

Laughing, Azira grabbed at Crowley's arms, tugging at him to come closer. "You can't just sit in the cold!"

"I'm fine, Azira," Crowley insisted. "I have a blanket too." He dragged it over to wind it around himself.

"Nonsense! Come sit near me. Two bodies are better than one in keeping warm," he chided, flushing at the unintended double entendre. Crowley grumbled, but finally complied by sitting pressed next to Azira.

The wind whipped cold air around to rattle the leafless tree branches, leaving the park mostly empty. Without the blankets and heater, Azira was sure they would have shivered themselves back into the Bentley. As it was, Crowley scooted closer to Azira. They sipped cocoa and munched on a lovely hot pasta dish Crowley had gotten from an Italian restaurant.

"Mm, this is good, Crowley," Azira proclaimed as he sat aside his plate. "We should go there properly later." He leaned against Crowley, bringing one arm with the blanket around him.

Crowley didn't resist burrowing into his side. "Sounds good, Azira. Our third date?" He pressed fingers like ice against his neck.

Yelping, Azira laughed. "You're cold! And, yes, our third date."

"It is cold! This was a terrible idea! Who thought of it," Crowley teased, grinning.

"I believe you insisted, my dear, but I think it's a lovely idea. Just what I needed."

Crowley turned his head, staring into Azira's eyes. "Yeah," he queried.

"Yes. Just like last night was what I needed. I probably wouldn't have gotten any sleep." Azira smiled and leaned in to press his cold nose into Crowley's cheek.

"Oh! So cold!" He tried to shove himself further on top of Azira. "Well, I wouldn't have been able to sleep either. I was too angry."

Blinking, Azira reached both arms around Crowley and guided him fully onto his lap until they were facing each other. There was a brief squawk of protest before Crowley buried his head into Azira's chest. Azira brought his blanket around them both, creating a dark, warm cocoon just for the two of them.

"Angry? You didn't seem angry, Crowley." His breath created more warmth in front of his face. It was nicer like this.

"Well, yeah, I kinda didn't show you how upset I was," Crowley admitted. He turned his face upwards, tucking it under Azira's chin. Then he tilted it to kiss his chin. "You were already upset enough. I had a tire iron in the back seat I was going to use if they showed up."

"That sounds rather heroic and dashing, beating up villains on my behalf. It's like all the best stories."

Crowley stuck out his tongue. Azira knew this because he felt it briefly against his skin. "The romances," he groused, "are just so cliche."

"Sometimes cliches are okay. Look at us now. A picnic in winter, forcing us to bundle together under blankets for warmth. Why, I've read enough books to know where this goes, my dear."

Crowley's head snapped up, and those eyes locked on his own. "We're in public. What are you suggesting?" He sounded amused as a smirk slid onto his lips. His breath tickled Azira's chin.

"Nothing so crass!" He laughed. "But we'd definitely stay warmer if we...did some things." His hands wrapped under Crowley's jacket and around his waist, fingers rubbing his shirt.

"Did some things?" Crowley laughed with him, his own arms wrapping around his neck. "What a dirty mouth you have!"

"Do hush and kiss me, Crowley."

Crowley's eyes widened, and then he surged forward, lips pressing against Azira's. The movement almost undid their blanket tent and toppled Azira over backward. Chuckling into the kiss, he reached to grip Crowley's hair in one fist and was rewarded with a pleased moan.

He didn't stop kissing Crowley, but he did tug experimentally to make sure the noise wasn't a fluke. Crowley leaned into him, a hungry touch to his mouth as he slipped his tongue past Azira's lips. The reaction was something he'd store away for later.

He certainly didn't want what happened in the Bentley to happen here. They were in public as Crowley had said! Crowley felt so good in his arms though.

Azira sucked on Crowley's tongue, and Crowley's hips pushed towards him. He felt the press of his hard cock against him. He groaned and tried to rub his own erection against Crowley. Passion was quickly winning out over propriety with little resistance for Azira.

The blanket covered them, and Crowley was pliant on his lap, chest to chest and tongue curling around his own enticingly. Surely they could keep their clothes on again?

His other hand slid to Crowley's erection, rubbing against it through his pants. Crowley broke the kiss immediately, eyes wide. "We-we're in public," he repeated in a hiss as his hips thrust into the touch.

That argument was over for Azira, and he smiled. "Under a blanket, in cold weather. I'm sure no one will disturb us. There's hardly anyone here." He couldn't even hear the ducks.

Biting at his lower lip, Crowley craned his neck downwards to stare at the hand caressing him through his pants. "Then...would you pull it out?"

"You want me to pull out your cock and stroke it," he whispered questioningly.

Swallowing, Crowley made a choked noise. "Y-yes."

"Alright," he replied without hesitation. It sent a thrill down his spine to undo the button of Crowley's tight pants and reach in to coax out his erection. He could feel it under his hand, hot and slick at the head. He rubbed his palm down his shaft and heard Crowley draw in a shaky breath. "Is that good?"

"Yo-you have to know it is." He tipped his head back toward Azira's face, ghosting over his forehead, eyes, cheeks, and then firmly against his lips.

Azira swallowed a groan as he wrapped his hand fully around his cock and stroked. Crowley's arms squeezed around him, fingers pressing into his back. They kept kissing if only because it muffled the desperate noises Crowley was making.

Azira's erection was straining against his pants. One of Crowley's hands slid down, fumbling with his pants in a hurried manner before he shoved into them and gripped his cock.

"Oh!"

"Ssh!" Crowley chuckled, kissing them both silent again.

The shushing was more exciting than the fact they were stroking each other under the blankets, gasping against each other's lips, hands and cocks slick as they tried to move in sync.

The entire thing was scandalous, but that made it all the quicker and easier for them both to reach the point where even someone ripping the blankets off wouldn't have stopped anything.

They kissed with a fervor made to mute their cries as they came over their hands in hot bursts.

It was absolutely sordid and filthy, and Azira loved it.

They broke apart, gasping, but still cradling each other's softening cocks. Azira smiled, eyes sparkling with wonder. "Oh my. That was so bold!"

"Yeah, but we're warm now."

"I daresay we're sweating!" Azira chuckled. "We'll-" He hesitated, looking down at the mess on their cocks and hands.

"We can use the blankets to clean." Crowley was quick to use the extra blanket curled around himself to wipe them both off. "I can wash them later." He tucked Azira's cock into his pants and then his own cock before buttoning them up.

Azira smiled fondly at Crowley, leaning in to kiss his bowed forehead. "You're so sweet."

"Oh, stop." He smiled as he tilted his head to stare at him. "I wasn't going to leave us hanging." He chuckled, and Azira pursed his lips at the terrible pun.

"I know you wouldn't, my dear, but still." He leaned in to nip at the tip of his nose. "Should we pack up? This was a lovely idea, but we're quite freezing. Your car will be warm, and the cocoa is still hot."

"You don't need to tell me twice." Crowley pressed their lips together, and then made sure they were both straightened and bundled. They removed the blankets, wrapping them into a lump that Azira clutched as they grabbed the rest of their stuff and hurried back to the Bentley.

It took far too long to load the car and get inside so they could turn on the heat full blast, but within moments they were warmed again. Azira smiled over at Crowley, who was fiddling with the stereo until a song by Queen came on. He leaned back in his seat as the melody filled the space between them.

Azira cleared his throat, relaxing into his own seat. "I've already said this, but this is perfectly what I needed to get out of my own head. So...thank you, Crowley."

Ducking his head, Crowley nodded without looking at Azira as the color rose high in his cheeks. "Had some trouble like that before. It's easy to overthink things. Helps to have someone to get you out of your head."

"Oh," Azira pondered, watching Crowley's hands glide over the steering wheel without putting the Bentley into drive. "did Gabriel help you?"

Crowley's blush dipped down over his neck, and he didn't raise his head. "Aah, no. Well, kind of, I guess. He did find your shop on the computer. But no, he didn't really...help me get out of my head."

"Oh," Azira replied cluelessly, "who did help then? Or maybe what did?" He smiled at Crowley, reaching to take his hand in an effort to show support for whatever was difficult to say.

Crowley tensed his shoulders, but he gripped Azira's hand in his own. "Oh, we-well, it was, um, actually it was you."

"It was me?" His eyes rounded, lips parting in his surprise. His hand twitched around Crowley's.

Crowley smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I walked into that store, and you were so...happy. It's...silly, but it was easier to think about something else...and not what I was stuck on."

"Oh," he blurted, blushing as much as Crowley was. He wanted desperately to ask what Crowley had been stuck on, what had troubled him so much, but he thought the point was that Crowley hadn't wanted to think about it anymore. He probably didn't want to talk about it either.

Crowley smiled, leaning forward across the gap between their seats and press a kiss on his cheek. "I mean, it's nothing you need to worry about now. Nothing I need to even! And I'm not saying you're some miracle cure for all that ails, but that one day, you really made the sun peek out of the clouds."

"Oh my!" He didn't think he could get any more red in the face, but here Crowley was proving him wrong. He pressed a hand to the cheek that had been kissed. He was grinning far too widely for his face. "Crowley...that's lovely."

Crowley was still hovering close, so Azira pressed forward to kiss him passionately. He was overtaken by a feeling that stuck in his chest and went into his throat, fluttering there like his heartbeat. The fervor of the kiss was returned, and Azira made a noise in Crowley's mouth.

"Mmmm, you're marvelous!" Crowley smiled as they broke apart. "I think I like you a lot, Azira Fell," he teased.

Laughing, Azira squeezed his hand. "I like you too - an awfully lot, Anthony Crowley."

They stared at each other for long enough that the air charged between them. Azira craved nothing more than to undo Crowley's black shirt and run his hands over his chest. Then...he wanted to do quite a lot more.

Clearing his throat, he drew his thoughts from the images of Crowley naked and crying out for more and back to the reality of them having just orgasmed in the park. "Um, what should I expect? Tomorrow, I mean. I've never gone to anything as fancy as a modern art gallery."

"Mostly you'll be expected to," he began to explain, waving a hand in the air as he grimaced, "mingle with the others. They're all artists and art critics and brokers and dealers. Horrible people, really. Just have a drink in hand and nod and smile a lot. You'll be fine."

Azira shifted in his seat, feeling his nerves light up at the thought of snooty people staring down their noses at him and asking questions he didn't know the answers to. "Well if that's all," he hedged.

"You'll be fine," Crowley repeated, tone softening as his hand moved to caress Azira's cheek. "You don't have to come either. I could meet up with you later for dinner."

Smiling, Azira thought the invitation to escape from something Crowley didn't enjoy was sweet. Crowley didn't know, however, how fully committed Azira was becoming to everything Crowley was about. "No, my dear. I plan on attending. I want to- Well, I want to understand why you hate it so much. Maybe it won't be so bad with me there?"

Azira pressed into that hand on his cheek, sighing as his eyes slipped closed.

Crowley chuckled as he agreed, "It'll definitely be better."

"And I can always give you an excuse to slip out early anyways," he added, keeping his eyes closed to enjoy the sound of Crowley's voice and the warmth of his touch.

Crowley nodded and Azira felt his forehead press against his own. "Yeah. Another thing…." His voice trailed off, dipping into a whisper.

The pause built into a silence and Azira opened his eyes. Crowley's were closed, his brow wrinkled with consternation. "Yes, my dear?"

Crowley's throat bobbed with a swallow. "Well, my ex will be there."

"Your ex," he inquired with genuine curiosity. "Will he cause trouble?"

Crowley's eyes snapped open, confusion in their depths. "Er, I, uh, maybe?" He sounded as if he hadn't expected that question. "I don't know. We're over so…. He wanted us to be over. I think."

He reached to cover Crowley's hand with his own. He sounded so lost and confused. Azira wanted to wrap him back into a blanket. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"He was just…." He swallowed, staring into Azira's face. Azira kept his features schooled into a soft smile. "He broke up with me. Seemed sudden to me, so I tried to find out what had happened.

"He said I was being," he explained, his lips shaped several words before he picked one, "clingy." He swallowed and glanced down at Azira's lips. "This right now is nice. I don't want him to spoil it."

Azira didn't think he meant just the picnic or this talk in the Bentley. "He's not going to spoil it." He nudged nose to nose with Crowley. "We won't let him spoil it. Like you said, we can always leave. I'm sure I could become faint or get a tummy ache, even a headache! I've got a weak constitution, you know." He chuckled.

Crowley's eyes didn't hold the confidence that slipped from his lips. "You're too nice."

"There's no such thing," Azira chided, reaching both hands to cup Crowley's face, willing him to listen. "I'm glad you told me. I can prepare for a dramatic ex, Crowley. If he'd caught me off-guard maybe there would be something to worry about, but now you've prepared me." He smiled in encouragement to Crowley.

"I have, have I?" Arching a brow, Crowley smirked. "Well, Lucius better watch out!"

"His name is Lucius? Oh, that sounds awfully pretentious!" Azira tipped up his nose and grimaced.

Crowley burst out laughing, leaning back so it wasn't directly in Azira's face. "Pretentious? Oh, I hope you say that to his face!"

"Only if he forces me to, my dear." Azira smirked at Crowley's delight.

"You're so…." He trailed off, finishing the sentence with another kiss. Azira could taste the desperate hunger there. It mirrored the desperation he had for Crowley to believe they'd be alright. Despite how much Azira leaned into it, Crowley leaned back rather quickly. "Ah, you said- I mean, I feel very much like taking you to my home right now. For, um, more than a tour," he clarified.

Azira blushed and ducked his head. "Can we do that after the art gallery maybe?"

He was looking into Crowley's eyes when he asked, and the desire that bore into him was enough to make his knees weak. "If you'll let me, Azira."

"I mean, once we see how the art gallery goes. Wouldn't want to-" He was only worried about the art snobs themselves, not Lucius.

"It's going to go fine. I'll make sure of it." Crowley smiled sweetly, a burst of confidence in the way his eyes shone. "And not just because the thought of you naked in my bed is the best kind of motivation. But seriously, Azira, if things start to get...well if you start to feel uncomfortable, we'll leave straight away."

Azira nodded, smiling back. "The same goes for you, Crowley. If you start to feel uncomfortable, we'll leave." He straightened in his seat and nodded again, rubbing his hands on his pants legs. "Shall we go then? You can drop me off at home. We both probably need to get clean...again."

Crowley chuckled and nodded. "Sure thing, Azira." Putting the car into drive, he peeled out of the parking lot, executing a sharp u-turn that threatened to plaster Azira to the car door. He even laughed at the squeak Azira made!

"Oh, you're driving is-"

"-exciting?"

"-reckless!"

"That too!" His grin was so full of unadulterated joy that Azira could only give him a half-hearted glare. He liked Crowley like this, so full of happiness and without what weighed on him.

He knew now it had to do with Lucius. A part of him whispered he was only hearing one side of the story, but he knew Crowley. He didn't know this Lucius. It was perfectly fine to have a bias against an ex-boyfriend. It wasn't just the wonderful make-out sessions they'd had influencing him either.

As he watched the scenery pass outside the car window, holding onto the door handle firmly, he considered what could happen tomorrow.

What if Crowley was disappointed by how he acted, or didn't act, at the event? What if Lucius made a scene, and Azira made just as big a scene? What if Lucius upset Crowley? That last thought made anger swim into his vision. He couldn't imagine anyone treating Crowley poorly, and he rather thought he'd roll up his sleeves and challenge Lucius to a duel, which would be the exact scene he'd want to avoid.

"You've been lost in your head for a bit. Um, dollar for your thoughts?"

He snapped his head toward Crowley, who thankfully hadn't taken his eyes from the road, "Sorry! I- Uh, a dollar?"

"Well your thoughts are worth more than a penny!" Crowley smirked ahead of him.

"Crowley, that's-" He sighed at the joke but smiled nonetheless. "I was just worrying. I do that a lot if I let myself."

They were at the bookshop, which was the only reason Crowley could pull over, stop the car, and turn in his seat toward him. He was frowning. "Getting lost inside your own head. Azira, I can say you've got nothing to worry about all I want, but- I get worrying. I worry too."

"Whatever for?" His hands unclenched from the handle to fiddle with his waistcoat buttons.

Crowley smiled. "Probably some of the same things you do. Maybe that this is a nice dream. Maybe that you'll come to your senses. We're complete opposites in a lot of things. We live in different worlds. I know you want to become a part of mine, but it's cutthroat and ruthless and full of dramatic snobs with nothing better to do than to comment on people's lives as if they're trash and only what they approve of is gold."

"I don't think our worlds are too different." Azira held up a hand as Crowley opened his mouth to interrupt. "No, listen. I think you like to relax. You like to take your time. You enjoy sitting and enjoying life with a glass of wine. I think your world, the one you're in right now, is the one that doesn't make you happy.

"But sometimes we have to have a footstep in a world that doesn't make us happy in order to find the one that does. I may be trying to speak from experience here. I really did hate to sell my books. My point is, my dear, that if something doesn't make you happy, you simply have to find what does." Crowley's hand laid over top Azira's, stilling it before wrapping their fingers together. Azira continued with a smile. "You-you make me happy. I hope I make you happy too. I mean, I'm pretty sure I do given that ridiculous grin on your face right now."

"You do." It was whispered, but even with the music playing softly he clearly heard Crowley.

"That, well, that will do just fine then." Azira clapped his hand on his leg and wriggled his shoulders as Crowley chuckled. "I shall see you for the art gallery then, Crowley. I am going to love seeing your art!"

Crowley nodded, lifting up Azira's hand to kiss the back of it before releasing it. His fingers tapped out a beat on the steering wheel as Azira blushed. "Well, yeah, we'll get a glass of champagne in you before we proceed with the visual torture."

"Oh, stop! I'm sure I'll enjoy your art. That rather is the point of opening a new gallery with your art in it," Azira fussed.

"I'm sure it is," he conceded, rolling his eyes the same way he'd done with Gabriel. Azira nodded and turned, feeling Crowley's eyes on him as he climbed out. He felt them all the way toward the alley and the stairs that led to his house.

Closing the door to his flat behind him, he smiled as he turned to see his and Crowley's wine glasses where they had been left the previous night, side by side on the table. Seeing them pressed up together was a silly thing to get sentimental over, but he felt any remaining tension from the previous day fade.

He left the glasses that way for the rest of the week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added in a bunch of stuff last minute to this chapter. I wanted the next chapter to resolve stuff with the ex, so I made sure to add more details about him here. Honestly, this is the most heavily edited chapter yet, but that's what happens when you need to make sure things are settled at the end!
> 
> Next chapter is the reveal of Lucius (yes, a play on Lucifer), and a confrontation! And more sex - actual sex if you ask Azira.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited art gallery trip, complete with meeting the ex. How will Azira react to this world of cold, dramatic art critics and a ex who did some damage? What will be revealed and resolved? What steamy excitement awaits?

Azira stood at the curb long enough that his buttons on his waistcoat were warmed with restlessness when Crowley's Bentley pulled up. He let his hands drop to his front, lacing his fingers together and smiling as Crowley hopped out from his side of the car. He circled around to Azira's door with fast steps, but he didn't open it immediately.

Crowley faced Azira and shifted from one foot to another with an arm behind his back as he returned his smile. "Um, I hope it's alright. Ah, this is cheesy. I, um-"

Azira raised a brow in silent anticipation, eyes glancing towards his hidden hands before looking back at him.

"-I got you a, uh, a- Oh, here it is!" He revealed a clear plastic container that held a small white flower with a bit of greenery poking from its side. "It's a corsage. I know it's-it's old-fashioned..."

The petals circled the inner yellow stamens in delicate layers. Azira reached to cup Crowley's hand and the container, eyes bright as he beamed down at the flower between them. "Oh, Crowley, is that a camellia?"

"You-you know what it is?" Azira looked into his surprised expression and chuckled. Crowley must have been counting on him not recognizing the flower and, therefore, its meaning.

"Dear, I'm an avid reader of Victorian literature. I became quite interested in secret messages." He smiled at Crowley and released him to smooth a hand over his own lapel. "I believe it goes here?"

Crowley nodded, smiling as his fingers fumbled with the plastic container, tossing it aside once it was open and he had drawn the flower out. His fingers shook a bit as he fastened the corsage gently to his jacket. Azira stood still and patient, smiling at Crowley as he didn't poke him one bit.

"How does it look," he inquired once Crowley's fingers had retreated. He peered down at the flower and smiled. "I like the meaning of it, Crowley: perfect loveliness?" He glanced up at Crowley to see his cheeks high with color. That Crowley thought enough of him to pin that ideal to his jacket made his nerves settle.

He spared Crowley a response as he leaned in, sliding hands to his cheeks and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Thank you, Crowley. Will you open the door for me?"

Nodding mutely with raised brows, Crowley swung open the door, staring with parted lips until Azira was securely inside before closing it. There was a longer wait for him to climb into the car himself, and Azira wriggled in his seat and admired the flower as he waited.

The car jostled as Crowley shut the door. He struck the steering wheel with both hands, smile bright. "Okay, so, away we go!"

Crowley's vibrant tone made Azira chuckle, and then he squeaked as if he'd forgotten about Crowley's driving, which he quite had! He clung to the door handle in what was now a habit, frowning as Crowley chuckled at him.

They drove in comfortable silence for only a couple minutes before Crowley spoke. "Oh, did Gabriel's lawyer ever contact you?"

Azira nodded, turning his head to take it off the road and watch Crowley's eyes dart between his mirrors and then glance at him. "He did yes. We worked out a plan. He was so nice on the phone. We're scheduling a face to face next week to make reports on their activities so we can file for trespass."

Wriggling his shoulders, Azira smirked. "He said that as a business owner, I only allow those onto my property for the purposes of that business. And someone, say, coming in to harass me about selling said property is outside of the purposes of a coffee shop. I should have no problems asking the court for an injunction."

Crowley smiled. "Good! Not surprised he's a smart man, and I'm glad you're getting all squared away. Gabriel only picks the best."

Azira smiled back. "He does, does he? Well that explains how he got the best artist!"

"Oh stop it," Crowley laughed, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. "We'll see what you say once you actually see my art!"

"Yes, we will," Azira agreed with all the affirmation of someone about to be proven right.

They pulled up to a square, squat, and white building with large, paned storefront windows. The doors were held open for them, and Crowley handed the keys to a valet. He met Azira on his side of the car and smiled at him.

"So," he explained as they walked to the door. "people are going to stare. They don't know that I have a, uh, a-" He paused, the weight of the word failing him.

"Boyfriend, my dear," Azira supplied with a cheeky grin.

Crowley blushed, but he didn't lose his stride. "Yeah, uh, yeah, boyfriend. That."

Azira chuckled and wrapped his hand around Crowley's, feeling Crowley's firm squeeze of reassurance for both of them. "They can stare. I'm sure they're just jealous of the handsome man on my arm."

"Oh. Um, well, you mean the one on my arm!"

Azira laughed, which was about the time that the door was opened for them by a man in a white suit. The laughter echoed ahead of them, and Azira pressed a hand to his smiling lips as stares fell on them.

Crowley was grinning back, eyes on Azira, and he didn't break his stride as they moved into the room. He smoothly grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing tray, allowing Azira to grab one as well as the waiter stilled.

"Ah, the man of the hour or should I say men. No one can shut up about the mysterious stranger Anthony Crowley has brought with him!" Gabriel's voice boomed out, preceding him as he walked towards them.

"Well, you've certainly announced us," Crowley groused, lips turning down, but his tone held no real rancor. He stopped and took a pointed drink from the flute, emptying half of it.

"That's," Gabriel asserted, "the point. Now Claudia wants to ask you a question, and you're going to answer her questions without any sarcasm, right?"

Azira pursed his lips in amusement at the same time Crowley snorted. "Sure, Gabriel. That's always been my style."

"Cooperative as always," Gabriel gave Crowley a sardonic grin and then turned to Azira. "Lovely to see you, Azira. That's a nice corsage you have." He gave Crowley an approving look and then placed a guiding hand near Crowley's shoulder. His hand never made contact though. "This way then. Try to stay to the left of the gallery for now."

"My art's to the right."

"So is someone you can wait to see."

Crowley's lips curled. "Couldn't we put him on the ban list?"

Now it was Gabriel's turn to snort. "Hardly. He has money. Azira has Anthony been bearable?"

"Oh, he's been absolutely wonderful," Azira smiled at Gabriel. He looked around as they moved toward a group of people talking together. "This place is huge!" He stared at a statue of two angels with a placard that said "Angels Wrestling". They didn't look like they were wrestling.

"I bought this place back when I started in the business. I made it what it is today and passed it on to someone with taste! You won't see them tonight though." Gabriel puffed out his chest and pressed his hands down his light grey jacket.

"Is Beez having another one of their-"

"We do not call them meltdowns, Anthony. You know that." Gabriel punctuated the words by pointing his finger at Crowley, who smirked but closed his mouth. "They're not feeling well."

Crowley elbowed Azira gently, aiming his smirk at him as he spoke to Gabriel. "You got into another fight with-" 

"Anthony, I make a lot of money from you, but if you continue to speak as if we're your personal soap opera I'll-"

Crowley held up a hand to forestall Gabriel. "Alright, alright. Probably have enough drama tonight."

"Anthony," a flat tone voice called out.

Crowley groaned, turning himself and Azira around to face the woman who was clacking toward them in high heels. "Michael," he greeted in the same neutral voice.

Azira inhaled at the all-white pantsuit the woman with stunning eyeshadow and brown hair in an updo carried off with authority. She smiled with closed lips, the expression not reaching her hazel eyes. 

Crowley tensed beside him, and Azira was immediately put on edge.

Her sharp gaze snapped to Azira and a flash of teeth showed. "Oh, and you brought your newest-"

"How are you? Doing good?" Crowley cut off whatever she was about to say. Azira blinked and looked around, suddenly wondering what everyone here did think of him. Was he just a weirdly dressed ornament on Crowley's arm?

The stares they were receiving were cold, lips behind hands and glasses. He saw one or two people who smiled at him, and he returned the gesture whether it was sincere or not. That seemed to cause more than a couple groups of dazzlingly dressed people to whisper at each other.

"Oh, you know how it is. It's so hard to find an artist that isn't have a mental breakdown or complaining of blocks and the stress they're put under."

Azira turned back to Michael, his lips parted at the audacity of what she was saying. He felt a stab of something red hot crawling in his throat, not surprised to find it was anger. 

Crowley smiled tightly. "As hard as it is to find an art agent that isn't a backstabbing bi-"

"Okay!" Gabriel stepped forward between the two of them, clapping his hands loudly. Michael started as if she hadn't noticed him standing there. "Lovely to see you, Michael! I believe you'll want to stop Hastur before he finishes that glass, hm? He's wobbling." Gabriel plastered a smile with teeth at Michael.

Michael's stare whipped around to a blonde in a rumbled brown suit weaving toward a tray of champagne as he attempted to drain the one in his hand so he had an excuse to grab another. "Shit!"

As she scurried off, Azira couldn't help but let out a surprised laugh.

Crowley's eyes widened as he looked at him, and then he grinned. "Azira," he chastised, still grinning.

Azira pressed his fingers to his lips again and ducked his head. "I'm so sorry. She really was a bitch though."

"Hah! I like this one, Anthony!" Gabriel barked, missing the scowl aimed at his back as he waved them forward and continued walking. "I said be good, so stop snapping at everyone."

Azira could hear Crowley's teeth grinding as he leaned in toward him to whisper. "I'm starting to understand what you mean, my dear," he admitted. He didn't want Crowley to feel alone with these people who had been horrible so far. Gabriel seemed the only one who understood both Crowley and the world they were in.

The look Crowley shot him was pure relief. "Yeah," he kept his voice as low as Azira's. If Gabriel could hear them, he made no indication of it. "We can head out whenever you want."

"Whenever you want, you mean. I'm rather enjoying all this whispering about me. It's making me feel so scandalous!" He batted his lashes and smirked at Crowley.

Crowley laughed in surprise, catching several stares. "You're definitely throwing them all off. That's a good thing. You don't want to be what they expect."

"Neither do you." He pressed them together as they walked, matching his steps with Crowley's.

Crowley smiled at him, a fond look in his eyes. "You're right," he stated simply.

Azira beamed and was still smiling when they stopped at a chattering group who went silent to turn their stares on them. Gabriel's smile was tight as he motioned to Crowley and Azira. "Claudia, as requested, the errant artist and his companion Azira Fell."

As introductions went it was only slightly insulting. Claudia was a woman with straight, short-cropped hair that was asymmetrical, and she turned with a chilling smile that took up half of her face, white teeth gleaming. "Anthony, there you are! I thought you might never come back the way you were sulking."

"Ah, we don't use the S-word, Claudia," Gabriel admonished, a hard edge to his voice.

"Oh, of course! On break! Then Gabriel sent me a photo of your work, and I fell out of my chair. I told everyone!" She pressed her hands together, her ringed fingers flashing.

Crowley glanced to the side, and nodded. "Yeah. Thanks," Crowley started before clearing his throat. Azira could feel the hand in his own trembling. It made the hot feeling in his throat lurch with heated words on the tip of his tongue. "Was it, um, do they like it?"

The hesitant way he spoke made something crack inside Azira. It was a perfectly reasonable question to him, but Claudia's response explained his reluctance to voice it.

Claudia pressed her hands to her chest as she tilted her head, smiling indulgently. "Aren't you just adorable caring what the public thinks," she cooed. "It's in. It's chic and modern. It hardly matters what they think! They'll move onto something new in a month!" She laughed and the others laughed with her. Gabriel, at least, only gave a forced smile.

Beside him, Crowley's shoulders hunched, his lips tight and tilted downwards. His shoulders moved up and then down, a small movement as he nodded and gestured in a wave with the hand that held the champagne flute. "Of course. I'll get something new up before that happens."

Azira heard Claudia's delighted approval, felt Crowley's body press against his, tense and bowed, and that heat in his throat oozed onto his tongue. Tipping his nose upwards, he bored his stare right at Claudia, until she turned to give him a raised brow at his glare.

He squeezed Crowley's hand and felt an answering press. "Is it timeless?"

Everyone stopped moving, their heads turning to him in unison. The way his insides clenched at the attention felt like a horror movie. Claudia's lips parted, amusement in her tone. "What? Oh, are you Mr Fell? Lovely of you to come." Claudia directed her smile toward him, making it clear she had been ignoring him previously. "You asked if it was...timeless?"

She said it all as if she hadn't heard him, but he was fine with explaining. "Well, so many works of art, classic and modern, are considered masterpieces," he snapped. "I'd dare say that's more important than being a fad: being timeless and a classic for the ages?" He arched a brow and tipped his head upwards.

"Oh, well, that's only a thing told with time-" Claudia began.

"Public opinion can give a good measure of that, though not the best. The most popular artists have been famous with the people and an enemy of ignorant aristocracy." The key in a group of sharks was to be quick and not allow them to sink their teeth in. In this, antique book dealing and art dealing were the same. He raked his gaze over the group huddled together, staring at him with wide, alien eyes.

He let the insult sink in. "So...what does the public think of Crowley's newest piece? I'd rather like to know." Keeping his head tipped up, he watched Claudia's face pinch inwards as her lips stayed sealed. He rather felt like a fox in a henhouse. It was thrilling. 

Gabriel let out a laugh beside them, which caused the others in the group to join in, some more sincere than others. He was the one to answer, since Claudia seemed determined not to. "Everyone came for his newest piece, and the reviews have been good. I'm sure we'll see them in the papers, and social media will be praising him." Gabriel flashed Crowley a smile that was returned with a grateful nod. 

"Where did you pick this one up, Anthony?" It was one of the men that spoke, and it sent a tremor through Crowley as his lips pressed tight and unapproving again.

"A coffee shop I own," Azira answered directly, staring at the man without flinching. "We were discussing van Gogh actually." Azira wriggled his shoulders and turned to Crowley. "Can we go see your art now, Crowley?"

Crowely nodded and turned their backs to the group, walking to where his ex presumably was. Azira almost wanted to meet the ex more than these horrible people.

"They have no heart!" Azira didn't bother to lower his voice, walking with a fast stride that Crowley matched. "How can they just treat people and what they create like that! What heartless ba-bad people!"

They turned the corner of a thin wall separating one section of the art from another that was empty of people and out of sight of the groups of people. Azira gave a squeak of surprise as he was crowded toward the corner. Crowley guided him until his shoulders touched the wall.

Crowley was beaming at him, fondness in his eyes as he laughed. "You're magnificent! Who cares if they care? I don't care if they care cause you care." It was a rambled mess of words that Azira thought he understood.

Crowley's hand rose, the flute of champagne gone at some point. Azira barely remembered to keep a grip on his own as fingers brushed over his cheek, settling into his curls. Crowley leaned in and their lips met, softly at first and then quickly growing hungry. Crowley's lean body pressed against his and Azira moaned. His head felt woolly and wonderfully warm with affection.

A throat cleared as a couple passed them, and they broke away. Azira was grinning, flushed and panting. He cleared his throat. "Well, maybe I should come here to snap at them more often?"

"You're better at it than I am," Crowley agreed.

"I thought your sarcasm was charming!" Azira giggled, as they straightened from the wall and each other. He felt hands smooth over his jacket and returned the favor.

Crowley laughed again, in joy and surprise. "You're the only one who thinks so."

"More people should lighten up. Honestly how can they constantly be so wound up all the time? It's too stressful! No one has time for that much drama." Azira grinned, leaning in and wrapping his arm around Crowley's as he turned them in the direction they had been walking. "Won't you lead me to your art, Crowley? I want a timeless classic."

Shaking his head, Crowley chuckled. "I seriously doubt it's that, Azira, but of course you can see it."

They began to walk again, past milling groups of people who stopped to stare and whisper in front of pieces of art together. Azira finished his champagne and left the flute on a passing waiter's tray. When they turned a corner, Azira felt Crowley's steps stagger and knew they were at Crowley's showcase.

Despite wanting to look at the pieces surrounding them, Crowley stiffening under his hold drew his attention to the long, black-haired man that stood in front of one of the bigger pieces. He wore a finely tailored black pin-striped suit. As they stepped audibly closer, he turned his head to reveal a pair of glasses perched on a hooked nose.

He was handsome, but the cruel smile curved on his pert lips made Azira instantly dislike him.

"Crowley?" Lucius smiled, turning toward them as they approached. "I was hoping you'd make it away from the sharks eventually. Is this him? He's all anyone is talking about. Besides your newest piece, that is."

It was frustrating that Azira couldn't see the painting behind Lucius, and it was annoying he was looking at them like he was amused. Azira didn't hide his frown. "Azira Fell. You must be Lucius."

"He told you about me?" A hand with manicured nails rested on his chest for a moment. "I'm flattered. Unless it was bad things." Lucius chuckled in amusement, obviously picking up the emotions aimed at him. "But I thought we ended on friendly terms." He arched a brow and stared at Crowley reproachfully.

Crowley was scowling at him, a hand shoved in his pocket as he leaned back. One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. His tone affected disinterest. "Sure. You done?"

"Ouch." Lucius chuckled, waving a hand dismissively at Crowley's terseness. "No, I'm not. I wanted to congratulate your newest muse on inspiring you."

Azira blinked and glanced between the two men as he became lost in the conversation. A muscle on Crowley's cheek twitched as he snarled, "Don't say it like that."

"Like what? I was your muse for such a long time. It's only fair that after we parted you'd find another to-"

"Stop it. We're done. You said so. You can't just-"

Lucius interrupted him with a click of his tongue. "So you really did mean all those texts you sent me? I thought they were endearing, but I really didn't understand why you were so hung up."

Lucius turned to Azira now, his lips pursed as he raised a brow insincerely. "Has he warned you he's bad with 'it's over'?"

Azira could feel the tug on his arm as Crowley stepped back. He didn't stop his movement, but didn't let go of Crowley's arm and he also didn't move. Frowning fiercely, he straightened and tipped his nose into the air for a second time that night as that heat bubbled up and out of his mouth. "I thought to myself tonight that I really shouldn't do anything overly dramatic, like punch you in the face, but I find myself quite wanting to do it right now.

"I hope if I ever say it's over, he doesn't accept it! I hope he comes racing back in his Bentley and begs me to run away with him! I certainly will not be cowed by the traits I like in Crowley just because you don't have the good sense to appreciate them!"

Lucius' smile fell away, lips parting, and then he choked out a noise that sounded like a laugh. "Well…. Well, that's...a mouthful."

"And another thing," he snapped, taking a step forward and feeling the alarmed pull of Crowley on his arm that he ignored, "step out of the way so I can see his damned painting!"

Lucius' face went blank, shifting on his feet as his body tried to obey the barked command on instinct. He stiffened and smiled, thin and brittle, stepping to the left to give Azira an unobscured view of the painting.

It took up the entire space from floor to ceiling and was wider than Crowley and Azira combined, most of the canvas was covered in scarlet with visible brushstrokes. In the center were vertical strokes of ivory with two slanted and curved pieces breaking out to either side of it like wings. It had two smaller shafts stretching above it, holding a singular orb of fluorescent blue that had a gold halo around it.

The strokes were deep, like the impressionists, but the colors were vivid like the fauves Crowley had professed to admire. "Oh…."

Crowley was still beside him, and then he stepped closer, leaning toward Azira. "It's different from my others."

He glanced around them at the pieces that were less clear in form, more splatters and swirls of color. Then he stared back at the bold, huge piece in front of him. He wasn't sure what to say as he processed the warm, fluttering feeling the art created.

A voice beside them reminded him of Lucius' presence, mocking in its cruel edges. "It is rather old-fashioned."

"Do shut up!" Azira snapped at Lucius, turning to glare at him before turning his attention back to the canvas.

Crowley chuckled and stepped in closer to Azira and then closer to the painting. Azira followed him. "What do you think?" 

Azira heard a soft rustle of clothing as Crowley shifted beside him. He smiled and turned from the art to face him. "It's lovely!" He squeezed Crowley's arm and continued, "I love the colors! The shape in the middle makes me think of a figure, reaching for the sun...or maybe the moon since it's blue."

Azira nodded at his apt description and turned back to the painting. He leaned in to read the placard underneath it. "Oh, you called it Angel! I can feel the emotion you put into it, Crowley, and it's such a large painting! There's so much care and love in it."

Lucius scoffed from the side, shaking his head before laughing drily. Azira turned his head, prepared to lash out again when Lucius turned and strode away. "You two have a nice rest of your evening." he shot back at them. 

Crowley's glower followed him.

"He was an arrogant asshole."

"Sometimes," Crowley muttered in agreement. Then he chuckled, turning back to Azira and smirking. "I thought you were going to punch him!"

"And cut my hands on those sharp cheekbones? Never, Crowley. He's not worth it." He reached to place his other hand overtop Crowley's and patted it, turning back to the painting. "Now the most exciting speculation is what you felt when you painted this. What did you want to say with it," he entreated.

He could feel the hesitance beside him, and then heard Crowley wetting his lips and swallowing. He waited patiently for his response, letting him gather his thoughts in privacy. It was deeply personal after all.

"Well, it is an angel, but it's not holding a moon or sun. It's like, you know, like a ball of light. Like," he faltered, rubbing a hand over his face and using it to shield his eyes even with the sunglasses covering them, "love or hope or something. That's why it's glowing with something like a halo."

Azira blushed, smirking as he leaned up toward Crowley's cheek and hovered near. Crowley jumped as he felt his breath ghost over his cheek. "And did I inspire you?" That part warmed his insides.

Crowley's hand slid down his face. It was red, and his eyes were wide as he tilted his head to stare at Azira. "Um, yes? I mean, yes. Yes, you did. You kind of...are it?"

Azira leaned back and turned to the painting, his eyes now wide. "I'm the figure? I'm the angel?" That held ramifications that made Azira dizzy. It was a heady sensation. The angel held up hope or love, and the angel was him….

He leaned against Crowley and smiled. "Oh. That's...very big and very flattering. It's beautiful, Crowley." He turned his head to lean in and press a kiss to his lips. Crowley returned the kiss with a fervor that threatened to curl Azira's toes.

He broke the contact to breathe. It felt like the temperature in the room had risen, even though he knew it was just the warm sensation spreading rapidly throughout his body. He had to turn to look at the painting again or risk looking for a place to hold Crowley close and strip him!

"Will the painting stay here," Azira queried. He tilted his head and pondered the painting for a moment. "It's so lovely, Crowley. I don't know what quite happens to paintings. What happens when they aren't considered in style anymore?"

"Uh," Crowley made a few noises beside him before he managed to grab the thread of conversation. "They either sell to a private collector, another gallery, or they go into storage."

"Storage? Oh, it's much too nice for storage, Crowley!" He felt Crowley's arm jostle him and looked up to see him smiling "Well, it is! It needs to be where people can see it. Goodness, is some of your art in storage?" His eyes went wide.

Crowely shrugged. "Sure. Some of it was older pieces, not really a thing, experimental and not what's popular right now. Some of it was just crap," he explained.

Azira frowned and jostled his arm back, earning that amused and fond smile again. "That's horrible to say. I mean, yes, every artist has growth, but don't you think Leonardo da Vinci's sketches are art? He had problems finishing his works, but no one calls them crap now!"

Crowley laughed as he pressed his head to Azira's. "Oh, you're being offended on my behalf against me, Azira. I'm sure he would've thought some of his stuff was crap. Explains why he didn't finish it all."

Azira sighed. "That's a ridiculous theory. Anyways, you should at least have a place to display your work so it's not all locked away."

"Well, that'd require a lot of space, and not all of it goes with...stuff." He shrugged, still smiling.

"Stuff?" Azira raised a brow. "What stuff could it possibly clash with?"

"Well the stuff in my flat. Only place I can think with the space. And it's got a...style." He ducked his head and rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Oh my. Am I going to wrinkle my nose at your flat?" Azira grinned. He had an idea about where to display these paintings, but he'd rather not broach it here. This place set his nerves on fire, even if he'd come here again and again to see Crowley's art.

"I hope not, but- You might not like it. It's modern," Crowley raised his head, smiling apologetically.

"Oh, I'm beginning to hate that word." Azira scowled and stamped his foot for extra effect.

Crowley laughed, turning them away from the painting. "Come on. Let's get out of here. We'll get some dinner, and then you can judge my living space."

"I'll try not to be too judgmental. I mean, as long as you like your flat, Crowley." He leaned his head onto his shoulder as they walked.

Shrugging, Crowley gave Azira a chagrined smile. "It's what I think I should have? I'm hardly ever there."

"What you-" Azira took a breath as he cut off his surprised cry. "At least you posed that as a question," he mumbled. Then he smiled. "I'm not going to your flat for your interior decorating tastes anyways. I'm going to, um, well-" He cleared his throat and glanced around. "That is, I thought we might...consummate."

"Con…." Crowley trailed off as realization widened his eyes. "Ah. I mean ye-yeah." He smiled. "We'll go to my place after dinner to crack open a bottle of wine and relax on my couch. Probably be some kissing and cuddling."

The thankful look Azira shot Crowley was met with a warm smile as they left the art gallery. They didn't acknowledge anyone on the way out.

They went to another fancy restaurant, though one not as world-renowned as the Ritz. As they swapped bites of food off each others plate, Azira brought up the suggestion he'd mulled over since the art gallery. "I was wondering - and you can say no or take some time to think about it - but I wondered if you might put some of your art in my coffee shop."

Crowley paused with a fork halfway to his mouth. He sat it down carefully on the plate. "You want to what?"

"I'd like to hang some of your art in my coffee shop. I think it wouldn't clash. I can pay for it, if that's what's done. Gabriel would be good to speak to, wouldn't he? He does that sort of thing. He sells to collectors."

"Azira…." Crowley's lips were parted, his eyes wide as he stared at Azira. "Yo-you don't have to buy my art! That's-"

Waving a hand, Azira blushed. "It's nothing like that. It wouldn't be- Oh, I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. Yes, I like your art, but I'd also like to display it. I mean, the pieces you enjoyed that were put away. They can be shown in my coffee shop." He bit his lower lip, his fingers finding his spoon handle to fidget over it. "Did I make a mess of this?"

Crowley face slowly relaxed. He beamed at Azira before he reached over to grab his hand. Bringing it to his lips, he kissed the back of it. "No. No, you haven't made a mess of anything. This whole night has been fantastic, Azira. You've made it wonderful."

Crowley took a breath before he continued, "It's definitely something you can talk to Gabriel about. He can explain how to display it, maybe even for sell so you don't have to buy it, you wonderfully sweet man." He chuckled.

Azira blushed. "Oh! Stop that." He lowered his head and glanced at Crowley from under his lashes. "Can we ask for the check?"

Crowley's hand shot up into the air. "I thought you'd never ask."

Five minutes later they were in the Bentley, racing down the roads to Crowley's flat in Mayfield. Azira clung to the door handle and fairly squirmed in his seat, stealing glances at Crowley who kept stealing glances back. Whenever their eyes met, they would grin and laugh.

When they had parked and Crowley had let him out of the car, Azira grabbed Crowley's hand and propelled them across the street.

Crowley laughed, and Azira turned to grin at him, stopping breathlessly at the double doors. He held open the door and gestured for Crowley. "After you."

"Isn't that my line," Crowley teased, but he stepped into the highrise and waved to the doorman. Azira saw Crowley's hand linger behind the rest of him and smiled as he took it.

They stepped into the elevator, and Crowley pressed the button for the fifth floor. His fingers tapped out a rhythm on the back wall he leaned against, smiling over at Azira.

Azira grinned back, taken with a bold sensation that moved him in front of Crowley, pressing into him to elicit a gasp of surprise. "Do you ever think about all the exciting places you can be naughty?"

Swallowing with wide eyes, Crowley chuckled, leaning in to brush his nose against Azira's cheek. "Not before meeting you. Against the door of your book shop, in the Bentley, under blankets in a park, now an elevator? I think you must have a kink here."

Azira inhaled. "I think I must. I had no idea, to be honest. I even thought about it in the art gallery!" He tilted his head, pressing his lips to Crowley's and pressing their joined hands against the elevator wall. His other hand moved to encircle Crowley's waist.

The kiss was languid and deeply satisfying, their groins brushing to draw out twin sighs. When the bell dinged, Azira laughed and pulled away, blushing as he checked to make sure no one was barging in on them.

"Just our floor," Crowley reassured huskily. "Would you really have any shame if someone caught us?" He smirked.

Azira tugged on Crowley to lead them out of the elevator. "Oh, probably. Maybe for a little bit. It would be terribly embarrassing to be caught, but the thrill of the chance of being caught..."

"It's exciting. Still don't want my neighbors knowing me as the elevator fucker." Crowley took the lead along the hallway.

Azira giggled. "Maybe they'd think I was terribly lucky and be jealous, Crowley!" He let himself be guided to the flat's door, staring at the way Crowley's hips swayed. It was hypnotic.

Azira hadn't realized they had stopped walking until he ran into the back of Crowley, almost pushing him into the door. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

Turning, Crowley gave him a shocked look. "Are you? Maybe we shouldn't have a bottle of wine."

Azira shook his head. "No! I mean, I'm fine. I was just...watching you walk?"

Crowley didn't open the door, instead turning to lean back against it as his lips curved in amusement. "Watching me walk?"

"Well, you tend to sashay, my dear. I don't know if anyone's ever told you, or perhaps cat-called, though that would be rude. I mean, you are very attractive to begin with, but then you walk and..it's like a pendulum."

An eyebrow arched and the smile didn't dim. "A pendulum? Well, guess you could tell good time by my ass then?"

"Oh you," he chuckled, swatting playfully at his shoulder with a hand. "Do open the door, my dear. Your neighbors might still talk."

Shaking his head, Crowley turned, unlocking the door and opening it to step inside and pull Azira in behind him. He let the door slam shut. "I don't care what they talk about. Unless they want to tell me it's good I found someone who's so polite."

Azira pressed into him immediately, hands draping over his shoulders. "What would the world come to if we were all rude? Politeness should be expected from a civilized society."

"Yeah?" Crowley's hands rested on Azira's waist as he grinned. "That so? Is a barbaric world so bad?"

"Oh, the world has never been truly barbaric. We've always found a way to keep each other comfortable and feeling safe. Even if we have to imagine it in stories and art." Azira smiled and turned from Crowley's face to look around the flat.

"Well, I suppose that's true." Pursing his lips, he stared at Azira's grim expression. "Told you you wouldn't like it."

"Well, my dear, you really picked a color and stuck with it." The flat had dark grey walls, black furniture, and sported a minimal amount of decor. The decor it did have seemed as austere and cold as the flat itself. "Is your bedroom...warmer?"

Crowley chuckled. "Do black silk sheets count as warmer?"

Snapping his attention to Crowley with wide eyes, Azira cried, "Oh, but we'll slip right off!"

Crowley burst into laughter, leaning his head on his shoulder. The laughter was delightful, but Azira had been quite serious.

"It's not uncommon at all, Crowley! I tried silk sheets in college. I rolled over and just slipped right off the bed! It was terrifying. I thought I was falling! Well, I was, but not from the sky like in my dream." He smiled as he watched Crowley try to restrain his mirth.

"I'm...so sorry for your back pain then, but I'm just imagining us...naked...sliding all over the place!"

Azira rolled his eyes, but he was laughing now too. "That is a rather ridiculous picture."

Sobering, Crowley straightened, a hand shifting to cup Azira's face. "We won't slip off the bed. Trust me." His smile was dazzling.

Azira could only moan an agreement as Crowley kissed him. He'd never get enough of those warm lips against his own, those fingers that were gently caressing his skin. Crowley shifted, and he felt a leg press between his own.

"Mmm," he encouraged, moving his legs slightly apart and pressing in closer.

"Ah, you're so…." Crowley broke away, panting with dazed eyes.

"I'm so?" Azira threw Crowley an impish look. "Clothed?"

Crowley inhaled. "You sure? You want…?"

"Yes, Crowley, I want to have sex with you. I've wanted it since you ravished me against the coffee shop's door!"

Crowley laughed breathlessly. "I never did! I just wanted a kiss! You're horrible!" He took his hand again, leading him through the flat and toward an open doorway.

The bedroom was, as Crowley had hinted, not at all different from the living room. It lacked a lot of color and depth that Azira felt Crowley contained, and that was certainly in his art. That was nothing to worry about now, though, and it had no effect on how he felt for the man who had stopped in front of the bed and was watching him.

Azira smiled, letting go of Crowley's hand to take off his coat and drape it over a nearby set of drawers, careful not to crush the corsage. Crowley's throat bobbed as Azira's hands reached to loosen his bowtie before fully removing it from around his neck.

Raising a brow, Azira undid the top buttons of his shirt, amused by the way Crowley's lips parted. "My dear, I do so love putting on a show for you, but perhaps you could also get more naked?"

Crowley started, blushing before he nodded, tore his glasses off to toss them across the room, and undid the buttons on his shirt. His fingers were faster and stumbled more than Azira's, and they both removed their shirts around the same time.

As Crowley half-hopped on one foot to get his boots off, Azira chuckled and moved around him to sit on the bed. Crowley almost toppled over turning to keep him in sight. Azira choose not to tease him since his eyes were raking over Crowley every bit as much as Crowley was looking at him.

The flashes of skin revealed, the way he stretched and turned, were enough to make his cock twitch. When he undid his belt and pulled down his pants, it was clear he was half-hard.

"Ngk."

Azira paused with his hands on the waistband of his boxers, smiling at the dumbfounded look on Crowley's face. "Are you quite alright, Crowley?"

"Fine. Fine. Just fine. You're fucking beautiful is all," he spilled out hurriedly. He undid his belt, pulling them along with his pants down to pool at his ankles.

Azira continued to set his clothes to the side neatly, staring opening at Crowley's thick, reddened cock leaking precome. "You are too, my dear. Make no mistake." He licked his lips and made a come hither motion with his fingers. "Could you come over here so I can touch your cock?"

Nodding, Crowley kicked his pants off his feet as he walked. "You sound so dirty."

"We're both going to sound quite dirty before this night is through, Crowley." He glanced up at Crowley's face, giving him a more reassuring smile this time. "Do you like it when I talk dirty?"

"Oh, yes. Very much," he whispered, staring down at Azira with a look of shock in his eyes and a dreamy smile on his lips.

Shifting so he was more comfortable on the edge of the bed, he was pleased to feel himself not slipping as much as he'd feared on the sheets. Crowley's cock bobbed in front of him, and as he licked his lips again, it twitched.

"Oh, you seem so interested in something." He brought a hand up, tracing over his shaft with his fingers. "Do you want to feel my mouth wrapped around you?"

Crowley made a choking sound. "I'd fucking love that."

"Well then, I shouldn't keep you waiting," he agreed, but he didn't immediately move his lips to his erection. Instead, he continued to stroke his fingers lovingly over his cock, circling his head before he grasped his cock and stroked him firmly from head to balls.

Crowley arched upwards in surprise, mouth opened soundlessly and eyes wide. His hand reached out to grasp Azira's shoulder, clenching.

Azira's head bent down, tasting his precome before he wrapped his lips around his shaft and began to stroke it with his lips as his hand had done previously. He guided Crowley's hand to its proper place at the top of Azira's head.

Fingers gripped his hair, and a long, loud moan followed. Crowley's hips gave a small thrust into his mouth. Azira relaxed around Crowley's cock as it drove in deeper, his hand cupping his balls to roll and rub them.

"Aah," was the louder response, a harder thrust into his mouth as nails scratched at his scalp. Azira shivered, reaching between his own legs to wrap a hand around his aching cock and stroke it.

He heard a hitch of breath from above him, a stutter of the hips that shook the erection in his mouth, and then breathy words of awe. "Aah, fuck, you're touching yourself!" The grip on his hair firmed, a thrust with full force before he felt Crowley pull back.

Moaning as he salivated around Crowley's cock, he pressed a hand into Crowley's hips, prodding it toward his mouth. Crowley thrust back into him with another cry at the signal. "Azira!"

The noises sped up Azira's hand on his dick as he sucked on Crowley's erection with a fervor. The bucking hips became erratic, and he used his hand to keep the movements from growing too wild. He moaned around the hot cock between his lips, laving it with his tongue with abandon.

He felt the muscles under his hand grow taunt and then the hand at his head tugging away. "Azira, Azira, I'm going to come like this if you don't- I want to come like this, but I want to touch you," he cried.

He released Crowley's cock with a pop, grinning up at him smugly. "Of course you can," he replied raspily.

The hand at his hair slid down to cup his cheek as Crowley leaned down, pressing Azira backwards as their lips pressed together. Azira willingly laid on his back, releasing his cock to shift his legs up so that Crowley could fit between them. The press of their bodies from groin to chest made him shiver.

This kiss was hungry and messy, their lips pressing together hard enough that Azira could feel Crowley's teeth against his lips. His tongue thrust into Azira's mouth as his cock had a minute earlier, and Azira moaned and sucked on it.

There were noises too, broken only by the breaths they had to take. Azira felt dazed when Crowley leaned away, whimpering as he reached to wrap his arms around his neck and keep him close.

Crowley chuckled. "I'm not going anywhere. I just want to touch you, remember?"

"Y-yes, quite right," Azira stammered. He ran his hands up and into the hair at the nap of Crowley's neck, feeling the length of it flow around his hands like a cool stream. "Oh, you're lovely. You're so beautiful. How did you ever come- I mean, how did this-?"

Crowley laughed. "How did I?" He scooted himself up onto the bed, until his knees rested there. "How did you?" His hands pressed against Azira's chest, running over the thick hair before circling his nipples. He pinched them both at the same time.

"Ah!" Azira yelped, laughing. "Crowley!"

"What?" Crowley smirked. "Nipples are made for teasing, angel." Leaning over, he took a nipple into his mouth and sucked on it until Azira was writhing under him, panting.

The tongue and that pet name had his hand reaching for his aching cock, just to alleviate some of the tension, and Crowley's head snapped up.

"Hey…." He placed his arm in Azira's way, smirking wider. "What do you think you're doing? You've touched yourself enough tonight."

"But really, my dear, it's quite insistent-"

"I'm more insistent," Crowley intoned darkly. First one leg straddled Azira, and then the other did, until he was sitting comfortably on his stomach, Azira's cock nestled in his ass.

Azira swallowed, whimpered, and flexed his legs, feeling his erection slide along Crowley. "Oh...oh, my lord."

Crowley's erection twitched before he leaned back over Azira, until their noses were touching, pushing his ass backwards. "Mmm, does that mean you like this? Would you want me to sit on you? Or-"

"I want you to fuck me," Azira spilled out hurriedly, his face going red. "I-I mean-"

"You do?" Crowley's eyebrows went to his hairline, lips pursed before he smirked and bared his teeth. "Oh you do…. Still, this is comfortable. You mind if I get a feel for your cock between my ass before I fuck you so hard you see stars?"

"Goodness, no, Crowley! Do-do whatever! I mean-" Azira bit at his bottom lip, moaning as Crowley's hands skimmed down his sides, teasing little shivers out of him that curled his toes.

"Yeah? Whatever? I just wanna make you feel good, angel."

That nickname was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard. He felt a hand course through his hair and sighed, leaning into it, and then lips were at his neck as Crowley pressed onto his erection insistently.

He could imagine fucking Crowley with that beautiful red hair whipping around him, head tossed back as he rocked himself on Azira's cock. He could also transpose himself into that spot. Either seemed delicious. The fact that Crowley was fine with either was thrilling! "Ah! Crowley!"

The stinging sensation that would leave a bruise eased as Crowley lifted his head. "Yeah, Azira?"

"Am-am I going to...be on top? Do you have condoms and lube?"

"Course I do," he snapped good-naturedly. "You take me for an amatuer? I've only been thinking about this since I first saw you."

"R-really?" Azira's eyes widened, trying to look at Crowley.

His head popped up with a smile on his face. "Of course. Told you you did things to me that first day. Wanted to kiss you within an inch of your life...and that kiss became a lot more very quick." He chuckled, reaching to brush his hand through Azira's hair again. Crowley hummed in thought. "Would being on top make you more comfortable? I'd love it, and if it's been a while… You'd be in more control."

"It, um, has been a while," Azira confirmed.

Crowley nodded, lifting his leg and using his hands on Azira's shoulders to guide them both over as he rolled onto his back. "There. Get comfortable." He fumbled a hand over toward the bedside drawer they were near until it opened.

Azira steadied himself with his hands on Crowley's chest and then smiled down at him. "Are you comfortable?"

"I am," Crowley agreed, his hand returning between them holding condoms and a tube of lube. "And, just to put this out there, you wanna stop at anytime you just say, okay?" His face had gone serious alongside his tone.

"Yes. Thank you, my dear." He smiled and took the lube from Crowley's grip. "I don't think I'm going to change my mind though. I want you to be inside me, all that hot and hard length of you," he purred.

Crowley made a noise in the back of his throat, eyes going wide, and then nodded. "Y-yeah. Wanna be...inside you. You're gonna break me, I think, but in a good way."

"Oh that's the only way to be broken, Crowley." Azira spread the lube on his fingers, straddling Crowley's prone form as he lifted himself up and rubbed his fingers against his entrance.

It took little coaxing to slide a finger inside himself, and his breath caught. Crowley's hips went upwards at the sound, eyes wide as they locked into Azira's fingers. His own hands worked to get the condom slid onto his cock.

"Oh, my dear, I'm so sorry. You can't see." Azira breathed as he retracted his hand. He began to shift, turning to face Crowley's stomach. He straddled Crowley sideways then, lifted up by his knees and one hand as the other moved back to slide slick fingers over his ass.

Crowley sat up slightly, eyes wide at the positioning. "Let me help." His arm moved around to support his thighs and Azira leaned back onto it, sitting up. "There...there. You want me to watch you?"

Azira bit his bottom lip, his other hand stretching himself wider. "O-oh yes. Watch me prepare for you," he moaned. He slid a finger inside again with a strangled noise. He could feel Crowley's breath on his shoulder.

"You're so perfect. My perfect angel."

Whimpering, he slid a second finger inside him, thrusting in and out patiently as he loosened himself, his cock twitching with every stroke. "Oooh, can't...wait to feel...your cock."

"I can't wait either." Lips pressed to his skin, and Azira shivered.

He didn't know how much time passed. His fingers stroked in and out, harder and faster, and then he shoved in a third finger with a groan, moving back onto them and shaking despite Crowley helping to hold him up.

"Oh, darling...darling, I think I'm ready," he cried.

"Yes, yes, please, yes." Those hands guided him again, soft and kind as he was positioned to straddle Crowley normally. "Grab my cock. Press down on it as slow as you like."

Azira smiled at Crowley, face flushed and eyes lustful as he nodded, grasped Crowley's cock with one hand, and sank down onto it with a long moan.

Crowley's face twisted in pleasure, his lips parting to spill out a torrent of words that didn't leave enough breath between them to interpret.

Breathing out slowly, Azira smirked at Crowley. "Are you...quite alright?"

"Fucking...bastard. You're so...tight!"

Azira pursed his lips, tilted his head, and tightened around Crowley on purpose. He leaned back his head, moaning at the sensation of Crowley's hard cock rubbing against him. "Ooooh, tight...you say," he panted.

"Shit!" Crowley's fingers dug into the skin at his hips, sure to leave bruises Azira could appreciate the next day. He laughed then, breathlessly. "This is why...you wanted to be...on top!"

"Like you said, my dear, it allows me some control." He smiled down at Crowley, sliding almost all the way off of him and leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. "Now hold me by my ass and fuck me."

In a smooth motion, he rocked back onto Crowley's cock, tearing a cry from them both as Crowley's grip shifted to his ass to shove him onto his cock. Azira lifted off of him again, and then both his and Crowley's momentum brought him thrusting back down onto his erection.

Azira entangled his hand in Crowley's hair to keep himself balanced as he bounced up and down Crowley's cock, crying louder as each stroke brought heat to his own neglected cock.

"Let me...let me," Crowley breathed, one of his hands moving to grip Azira's cock. He stroked him in an attempt to match their pace, his hand slick with Azira's precome.

"Oooh, I'm going to...I'm going to…."

"Yes, yes, please, Azira!"

With a scream, Azira threw back his head, shoving himself onto Crowley's dick frantically as he came over their stomachs. Crowley stiffened under him, hips jerking upward as he came deep inside Azira with a cry.

Azira hadn't felt himself lie down on Crowley, but when he became aware again, his cheek was pressed into his chest. Smiling, he turned his head and kissed him. "Okay?"

He heard a dry laugh and then the sound of Crowley wetting his lips. "Me? Thought you'd passed out."

"I might have, my dear. That was fantastic!"

"Give me an hour, and I can do it again."

Azira laughed, hands still wrapped up in Crowley's hair. He squeezed his arms to semi-hug him. "If I'm also recovered in that time, we surely can. We have time for repeat performances."

Crowley hummed and pressed his hand where they rested on Azira's ass. "Yeah. Want me to pull out of you?"

"If you don't mind, my dear."

"So fucking polite for having a dick in your ass," Crowley teased.

Azira looked up at him to spy the teasing grin, eyes fluttering as Crowley slid out of him. "We aren't barbarians," he repeated from earlier. He smiled, leaning in to kiss at Crowley's lips. "Mmm, you've been nothing but sweet to me. Why shouldn't I be polite?"

Crowley wriggled under Azira, settling on the bed as if he planned to stay there as they kissed. When they broke apart, he smiled hesitantly. "Hey, um, would you stay the night?"

Azira pulled back to look at Crowley, eyes wide with surprise, and then he smiled as Crowley bit at his lower lip. "I'd love that, my dear. Are you sure you'd have me?"

"Oh, of course, angel," Crowley cooed, wrapping his arms around him and hugged him close. "We didn't get that wine or cuddle on the couch. It's still a bit early, if you don't feel like sleeping."

"Like we did at the sleepover at my place," Azira teased. "I quite liked that!"

"Sleepover?" Crowley laughed. "I didn't know we were calling it that!"

Azira nodded, rolling onto his side and making room for Crowley as he turned to face him so they could press together again. "Well, that's what it was. You know, you made me feel safe that night."

"I was...worried about you."

"Well, it was sweet."

"You're going to ruin my reputation!" Crowley chuckled, kissing him again.

"Reputation? Mmm, I hope I ruin it completely then! Everyone should like you!" He smiled and straightened the mussed curls in Crowley's hair. "Ah, I love your hair."

Grinning, Crowley hugged him close again. He wrapped his legs around Azira as if he were serpentine. "Really? I couldn't tell. I like it when you pulled it."

"You did indeed, my dear. We can explore things like that once we're more comfortable." He smirked, watching a blush creep into Crowley's cheeks.

"Things like that," Crowley squeaked.

Azira nodded. "Yes. Unless you prefer vanilla or more traditional sex?" Azira arched a brow, still smirking.

"Oh, uh, I mean, we can try stuff. I've got some information on stuff!" Crowley wriggled his body into him, eliciting a laugh from Azira.

"I'm in trouble then!" He nuzzled his nose against Crowley's. "We can take our time with those things. First, we should get to know each other very well. Though, I must say, our first time lacked any real fumbles."

Crowley's eyes went wide. His lips parted on words of rebuttal before he settled on the simplicity of pointing out, "That wasn't our first time!"

"It most certainly was," Azira insisted. His face screwed up in a pout that would have included a stomp of his foot if he wasn't lying in the bed.

"How? We had sex twice before this! The Bentley and the park! We almost did it in the elevator!"

"Crowley," he said fondly, as if Crowley were just mixed up, "that was just making out."

"Just making out? What- How can you- I can't even- We've had sex three times! We know we like...public spaces...and heated exchanges...and we've had our hands on each other's cocks!"

"No need to be crude!"

Crowley searched Azira's face, sputtering. "No need to be-"

Azira's lips on Crowley's stopped his angry outburst up as he moaned, pressing against him in a way that didn't just suggest he liked a little friction with his aftersex. For his own part, Crowley threw his arms outwards as much as he was able before they gripped Azira's hair to return the kiss hungrily.

They broke apart panting, Crowley dazed and Azira smirking. "We can call it sex if it really bothers you, my dear."

Crowley sighed as he frowned. "It doesn't bother me! Of course it doesn't bother me! Why would it bother me?" He tugged Azira in for another kiss. "You're infuriating. Let's cuddle on the couch with wine before I think you wound me up on purpose!"

Azira smacked his lips in retort. "Why I never!" He was smiling as he disentangled himself from Crowley, rolling off of the bed and padding into the living room area. Crowley followed with only a slight hesitant step toward their clothes.

"Uh, don't you wanna...get pants?"

Azira called back to Crowley as he settled naked onto the couch. "Why when we'll just take them off of each other again, my dear?"

Crowley wisely kept any retort to himself as he joined Azira, curling up beside him and turning on the television as background noise as they cuddled.

They had plenty of night left to get to know each other better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added so much to this chapter, so it took a little more time to edit as well. I hope I resolved everything you were looking for in this chapter. Still have questions? Be sure to ask! It's the feedback that helps me grow! :D
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the sex scene as much as Azira and Crowley did!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A final Christmas present for you on the new day of a new year and a new decade.
> 
> Crowley and Azira's relationship has been well-charted, and they both deserve a Christmas break! Cue presents, Christmas fluff, and the traditional Christmas spankings!

Christmas day started with snow already on the ground. It had snowed a couple days before and stuck around, so it wasn't a true Christmas snow, but it still look delightful outside the window with the streetlamps that hadn't turned off in the early morning shining white against the drifts.

Azira stood at his window in a fluffy tan robe, light blue pajamas with yellow ducks on with a steaming cup of cocoa in his hands. Arms slid around his waist and he pressed back into Crowley's naked chest with a pleased hum.

"You woke up early," Crowley mumbled in a sleep-heavy voice.

"Oh, I always do. I get so excited for such a happy day. At least, it's always been a happy one for me, even if I had to make it that way for myself."

"Mm, well no more by yourself. We'll be happy together." Crowley nuzzled his face into Azira's shoulder. "Neither of us will be lonely. Now make me happier by crawling back into bed. It's cold." He lifted a bare foot to illustrate.

"Get some slippers on," Azira chided, grinning. He turned to cup his face in his hands and kissed the tip of his nose.

"I don't have any slippers," Crowley pouted.

"You do! They're just in your stocking. Nice and warm." He turned Crowley around, keeping him from stumbling as he guided him to the stockings hung on the mantle.

Crowley shuffled, petulant voice loud in the quiet of the flat. "You're tricking me! Once I pull out the stocking, I have to be up!"

Azira laughed, taking Crowley's stocking off its hook and handing it to him. "Well, if you know that then I'm not tricking you, am I?" He pressed another kiss to Crowley's cheek.

"Semantics," Crowley grumbled, but he hugged the stocking to his chest and stumbled to the couch, tucking his feet under himself. "You have to get yours too!" He was still pouting, and with his red hair sticking up at awkward angles he looked like a stubborn teenager forced to do Christmas rituals he was too old for.

"Of course, my dear," Azira cooed, bringing his own stocking to the couch. He set down his mug and sat down close to Crowley. Crowley immediately curled against his side, seeking his warmth with a nuzzle into his shoulder. Azira curled an arm around to draw him in closer. "Now put the slippers on first!"

"I'm doing it," he grumbled. He shifted his feet to put the slippers on, and then shoved feet and slippers back under himself. "Mm, thanks, angel." He smiled at Azira, still tucked against his side.

"My pleasure." Azira exclaimed at the tin of cookies at the top of the stocking, pulling them out to open them and take out one. "I do like these! They taste all buttery." He bit into it with an expressive moan of delight.

Crowley's voice sounded strangled as he responded. "Yeah. Remember you talking about them." Azira glanced over to smile at Crowley, who had set the stocking half in his lap to watch him with lidded eyes. "What's next in your stocking?"

"You know what's next," Azira huffed with a laugh. He opened the stocking wide and glanced inside, the noise he made this time a squeak of surprise. He reached inside and pulled out a white mug. It was a larger shaped mug, and to either side of the handle were white wings. "Crowley, this is lovely! It's just like the painting."

The painting had an honorary place next to the coffee shop's menu alongside the other art that hung on the walls. Gabriel had been surprised but willing to help Azira with making space in the coffee shop and guiding him through how to sell the paintings. The coffee shop seemed brighter with the splashes of color that Crowley had helped pick out among his pieces.

Gabriel often brought people into the shop to look at and buy them. The mob had never returned, the pressure of so much scrutiny too much for what they had planned to do in the area.

"Thank you, Crowley." He clutched the mug to his chest and smiled fondly. Crowley tried to shrug away the gratitude, but Azira set the mug down next to his cocoa and drew Crowley close with the arm still wrapped around him. He pressed his forehead into Crowley's hair and breathed in his scent, humming.

Crowley choked on air and mumbled, "Couldn't resist. Don't want you to ever forget."

Blushing, Azira chuckled. "I could never," he insisted. "Now open yours. Don't keep me waiting!"

Crowley laughed, reaching to pull a rectangular object from his stocking. "Alright, alright. I won't." Lips pursing as he pulled out what was obviously a book, his lips twisted in confusion as he turned it in his hands. "It's a book," he deadpanned.

Azira made a clicking noise with his tongue. "Well what book is it, my dear?"

Shooting Azira a doubtful look, he read the title aloud. "Vincent van Gogh, Ever Yours: The Essential Letters." His brows furrowed. "What-?"

"Open it," he laughed, reaching to take the book. Crowley pulled it back to his chest, pouting.

"It's my gift!" He flipped to a random page, eyes taking in the text and the accompanying sketch. "Oh, are these-? These are letters by him? With actual sketches." He wiggled on the couch as he leaned toward the book.

Azira smiled at his bowed head, but Crowley became engrossed on the page long enough that he finally fidgeted and spoke. "Do you like it?"

"Yes," he brightly pronounced. He flipped to another random page. "This is...unbelievable!"

"The reviews said it was unedited, with commentary and his sketchings. It looked good when I saw the preview." He wriggled his shoulders, pleased with his find. He knew a good book, after all.

"It's perfect! You're perfect!" He laid the stocking and book aside and scooted to place his hands on Azira's cheeks and kiss him. Azira hummed again, both hands resting on Crowley's shoulders as he leaned into him. He sighed as they parted, his eyes opening to smile at Crowley.

"I'm hardly perfect, but I understand what you mean." Azira reached for Crowley's ankles, pulling his legs gently out from underneath him to set them on his lap. Crowley's toes curled reflexively and his legs jerked as Azira glided his fingers over the arch of each foot. "I'm not going to tickle you," he chided, grinning.

"Well then what are you-" His question faded into a moan as Azira's fingers slid against his arch, pressing firmly into the muscles there.

"I'm giving you a massage, darling."

"Mmm, 'kay." Crowley melted back against the couch, eyes closed as he continued to make gratifying noises.

Smiling, Azira worked his fingers over the arches, gliding over the balls of his feet and even attending to his heel. Pain settled in the feet, he believed. Of course a whole body massage was best, but he found just the feet to have enough of an effect on the entire body.

Really, people needed to massage their feet more often! Still, if Crowley did it, he wouldn't have the opportunity to make him slouch against any surface he was near, including Azira, with a touch. Azira loved how he looked, sprawled out, relaxed. Such a wave of fond emotion struck him that he knew he was in love with Crowley.

He placed the feet to either side of himself, earning a squint from Crowley as he raised himself onto his knees and placed his hands on either side of Crowley's head where it rested on the couch's back.

Crowley shot him a lazy smirk, stretched out languidly underneath him. "What?"

"Can I say something sort of serious?" He felt tension spread through his arms and forced them to not quake and hold him upright. His face felt tight, and he tried to keep it relaxed.

Crowley's lips slipped into a frown, but he nodded. "Sure, angel. You can say anything you need."

"Thank you, my dear. Now...don't feel like you have to respond." Azira laughed and leaned in to press a kiss to Crowley's nose, which was wrinkling in confusion. "Most people don't talk about it before they say it."

He paused to take a breath, which allowed Crowley's confused expression to deepen into worry. Azira shook his head. "Don't worry, Crowley. Please. I just want to say that, well, that I love you."

"Oh…." A blush crept onto Crowley's face, but his lips split into a huge grin. "I mean, I knew. And you know too, right?"

Azira arched a brow, smirking. "Know what, Crowley?"

"Oh, that- You know- That I, um, love you," he mumbled.

Azira smiled. "I know you do, my dear." They met in the space between each other. Azira stretched his legs as Crowley pushed himself forward. both of them turning their bodies. With some rearranging, Crowley was soon on Azira's lap with Azira's back pressed into the couch cushions.

The kiss continued unabated as Crowley's hands pushed at Azira's robes and slid under his pajamas, eliciting a soft sigh, and Azira's hands cupped Crowley's ass and rolled it in his hands.

"Mmm, we going to have Christmas morning sex," Crowley mumbled, chuckling breathlessly.

Azira laughed, breaking apart to nuzzle into Crowley's neck, licking and nipping the skin until Crowley leaned back his head to give him more room. "Well, I suppose we have to now you've spelled it out for us."

"All part of...my master plan, angel." Crowley's fingers found his nipples, pinching them between his fingers. "Love you," he said with more confidence.

"Mmmm, I love you too, Crowley." It was warming, the little words, and he was glad he had said them. "Can I have you?"

"Anyway you want," Crowley sighed, pressing his body in a long, slow thrust against Azira.

Azira shivered, his fingers grabbing at Crowley's cheeks before he slid them up and over his back. "Do you-do you have-"

"Drawer next to us, on the top," Crowley muttered, leaning over impossibly to open the drawer of the table and pull out condoms and lube.

"Crowley! That's where guests can see it! And why's it in the living room," Azira cried.

Leaning back, Crowley gave Azira an incredulous look with pursed lips. "Azira, we've had sex on every surface of this flat. And anyone who finds these," he teased, holding up a condom and lube in each hand, "while snooping around deserves the heart attack. How can they be a prude and a busybody in the same breath?"

"Well...those people exist!"

"And so do horny bastards. I'm sitting in the lap of one." He rolled his hips into Azira's and they both hissed as their cocks rubbed each other. "And if he doesn't get to work, I'm going to flip him over and fuck him into the couch."

"Later, dear," Azira stated primly, snatching the lube out of his fingers while Crowley prepared the condom.

Azira gasped as Crowley undid his pants and reached a hand inside to touch his cock. "Your fingers are freezing!"

"Sorry." He only didn't sound sorry because he was chuckling. At Azira's warning glare, he brought his hand out and rubbed it vigorously with his other before reaching to yank down Azira's pants. "Let me make up for it."

Azira came off the couch as his cock was engulfed, almost squeezing lube all over them. Gasping, he relaxed his grip and moaned, a hand going into Crowley's hair distractedly. Crowley's tongue felt like it was wrapping around him, sucking eagerly before he popped his erection off his mouth and slid the condom on with practiced ease.

"Are you going to get to work?" Crowley smirked, baring his teeth.

Panting, Azira felt his lips part in surprise before indigation took precedence. "You're a cheeky boy this morning, Crowley. Do you know what cheeky boys get," he rumbled.

Crowley's eyes went wide and dark, mouth opening as the script they had been using changed. "Yeah." He licked his lips and rethought his answer. "I mean, what do they get, Azira?" He wriggled his ass on Azira's lap, smirking.

"They get a spanking is what they get." Gripping Crowley's pajama bottoms in both hands, he pulled Crowley forward and then manhandled him to the side so he was laid out on Azira's lap with his ass in the air.

Crowley squeaked, arms flailing, but they caught couch cushions. He panted into the couch's fabric and wriggled his ass again. "Oh, oh spankings? Goodness me," his voice squeaked.

Azira couldn't help snorting a laugh at the uncharacteristic outburst as he pulled down the seat of Crowley's pajamas. He palmed a cheek and felt it flinch underneath his hand. Rubbing it in slow circles, he brought his hand up a short distance and cracked it down on the skin.

Crowley jerked, crying out in surprise as he was pressed into Azira's lap. Smirking, Azira rubbed Crowley again. "Are you sorry yet?"

"After one slap? Don't make me-" He ended in a yelp as he was smacked on the other cheek, and then on the first one, over and over again until they both blossomed pink. Crowley's cries had become less shocked, more throaty and high-pitched as each break from the slaps meant he rubbed against Azira's legs with wanton abandon.

"Oh, you'll never say sorry, will you," Azira mused. He kept a hand on Crowley's ass and grabbed the lube back up with the other, slicking a finger with it and rubbing it over Crowley's entrance.

Crowley mewed.

Laughing, Azira prodded at him with his finger teasingly. "Do you want something, Crowley."

"I want your cock you fucking bastard!"

"Such language," Azira chided, pressing his finger into Crowley who responded with a keening cry, arching his head back. Azira's other hand moved to caress his cheek and was rewarded with a kiss to his palm and a lick to his wrist.

Shivering, he moaned as Crowley pressed his own cock down onto him. He exhaled noisily, leaning over Crowley's body to slide in a second finger, working into Crowley until he was thrashing as he whimpered. Azira's hips tilted up as they sought friction from Crowley's cock digging into his inner thigh.

"Da-damn it, Az-Azira…."

"I've got you," Azira breathed, reaching his hands to his arms to lift Crowley up. "Come here and sit on me, my dear."

Nodding frantically, Crowley rose, one hand grasping Azira's cock as he sank down onto it. The grip felt as if he were trying to pull Azira's erection inside him, and Azira cried out as Crowley let out a fulfilled wail as his cock slid inside. Azira shifted one hand to Crowley's ass, stilling him.

"Oooh, I've got you, my dear," he repeated, drawing out the slick slide of Crowley over his twitching cock. "My darling. My love. You're so perfect."

"Hah, don't turn...this around on me," Crowley laughed, pressing his forehead against Azira's. He smiled as their breaths evened out together. "I'm the one who's found perfection." He sat fully on Azira's cock, barely giving them time to breathe before he placed his hands on Azira's shoulders, lifting himself up and slamming onto his erection.

Azira let out a shout, fingers gripping into Crowley's ass as he rode his cock. The air was filled with their cries, breath warm between them until their lips met, messy and wet. Azira's hips thrust upwards desperately, a hand fumbling before it wrapped around Crowley's cock and stroked him.

Gasping, Crowley wrapped his fingers into Azira's hair. "Too soon! Too soon!"

"No...we've got...the whole day." Grinning, Azira leaned in to kiss at Crowley's neck, nuzzling it upwards so he could lick and suck at it. He pressed his lips to his sweat-stained skin and sucked hard enough to leave a mark.

The sensation was enough to stiffen Crowley in his arms, words tumbling from his lips as he came over Azira's hand and tightened around his cock.

Azira cried out as well, thrusting once and then a second time into the pulsing around his erection before he came. He trembled with aftershocks alongside Crowley before he leaned back against the couch, arms wrapping around Crowley's back and pressing him close.

"So lovely…."

"Too soon," Crowley grumbled, but he laid his head on Azira's shoulder with his lips curving in contentment. He could feel that smile against his skin.

"We'll get a cock ring for you, Crowley. I bet they make ones that are quite artistic."

Crowley swallowed. "Ngk."

Chuckling, Azira nuzzled underneath his ear, earning a shudder from him. "What a lovely Christmas present."

"Mmm, was nice," Crowley agreed. "Need to send a thank you card."

"Thanks for the sex," Azira inquired in amusement.

Crowley shrugged. "Something like that. Can we go back to bed?"

"Oh, I really don't feel like moving for a bit." He reached for a moment, keeping Crowley close to him, to grab for a nearby napkin, wiping Crowley and himself down. Then he made sure Crowley's clothes were tucked over bared skin and laid down fully on the couch.

Crowley didn't protest the manhandling as he was positioned on top of Azira. Given the noises he made, he might even have liked being moved around. He burrowed his face into Azira's neck again.

"Take a nap, Crowley. We'll have a second go around when you're awake."

Crowley chuckled. "Fucking horny bastard."

"Oh, you love me for it."

Crowley pressed a kiss to Azira's neck and nodded. "I really do."

Smiling, Azira closed his eyes. He didn't mean to drift off with Crowley, but before he knew it, he was sleeping soundly too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this fic, but I especially hope AnnetheHank enjoyed this, as it was all for her!
> 
> Your comments were beautiful and I cherish every one! Every single kudo, bookmark, and sub brought a smile to my face! Thank you all so much!
> 
> And thanks to this fic, I'm firmly established in the 'oh no this is pure romantic fluff' genre. :D Expect to see more from me!

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly had no idea I craved a soft, tropey romance like this. Thank you, AnnatheHank, for giving me the excuse to write this soft, fluffy love story. Being able to let go and just enjoy writing fluff was the best!
> 
> Stay tuned this Wednesday for the next chapter! Smut happens in later chapters.


End file.
